


Between the Decades

by BluestNovember



Series: Decades [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fucking, No beta reader, Oral, Romance, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 128,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluestNovember/pseuds/BluestNovember
Summary: Dani Conyers didn't anticipate meeting someone in grad school. But she never thought she'd meet someone with a complicated past that was too incredible to believe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hai. Complete piece of trash Cap Fangirl here, writing a Mary Sue. I am literally human garbage who doesn’t know a lot about the Marvel Comic Universe, but I am sharing this because it feels pointless to write it when I can’t write it for other people to read. Laugh at me, flame me, go ahead. I probably deserve it. But I enjoying writing sex (it starts later). This is not for those of you who like Marvel and the action, but for those of you who like romance with an OFC without favorite World War II Officer. Cap makes me squeal, I am a complete slut for him, so here I am writing a story with him in it. It’s a soap opera/romance, not action.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Captain America or the Avengers or the Marvel Comic Universe. They belong to the Marvel and Marvel Studios. Please don’t sue me. I am probably make mistakes out the ying-yang.
> 
> The story starts right after the Avengers film before Cap 2.

The music pounded in my ears and I gyrated in the cage.

_Don’t forget to make sexy faces like you love this… when you hate it._

I had been kind of stupid to go to come to DC after graduating college. Of course, this was a gay bar, and the Drag Queens were the real show. I gazed out over the audience of dancing gay men as Madame Glitter glided across the stage in a bright pink flowered muumuu, lip syncing along to _Don’t Leave Me_ by Thelma Houston, every eye in the audience was on her. The gay men in the audience were cheering and handing over singles. I’d maybe make $0.10 of that dollar. Probably less. The go-go dancers at the club worked on the tips we made, and the drag queens decided how much we got. Madame Glitter liked me, for now. I was in her good graces.

A short redhead who looked like she could have killed me with her pinky finger stood in front of my cage and I saw a perfectly groomed, thick eyebrow raise at my go go boots. “Nice boots,” she said, face blank, although I couldn’t hear her. I wasn’t stupid, I had on ear plugs under this platinum blonde wig. But she had on killer heeled boots that had to cost more than my rent.

Bachelorette parties came to gay bars all the time. I should know. I had gone to a few in my time, one in particular with my older sister, Lauren. I had imagined having my own with Chad, but that had ended terribly.

I saw a few people trailing behind her, and damn, half the guys in the club were checking them out.

To be honest, I did too, although my prospects here were pretty nil. While 90% of the guys went for other guys here, the other 10% usually stuck close to their girlfriends unless they were P-FLAG or had been to gay bars at least ten times.

Yeah, cis-gendered guys were funny to watch here.

This group though…. All jocks, but I starting running down the gay stereotypes in my head, even though it was unfair.

They were basically made of muscle. Possibly gay? I wouldn’t doubt it. The one right behind the redhead had he most beautiful long, blonde hair and a beard. Possibly a daddy bear? Soon, maybe, if he just gained some weight, he’d make a good one. He seemed to find this whole place hilarious, had a huge grin on his face and was taking the guys checking him out as a funny. Then, there was one that looked like he might have been a Daddy, but he seemed bored. Then, there was a blonde in a muscle t-shirt, who looked a little surprised, but not scared. I had the feeling he was so straight-laced he had never been to a concert. He glanced up and me and did a shoulder shimmy that showed off my boobs and he quickly looked away, like it was so offensive. Dude looked like he had never heard of a size XL shirt, his biceps were about to rip the sleeves.

Madame Glitter’s song ended, and I saw the redhead had been replaced by the club’s manager Larry and a hairless guy in a gold Speedo and Converse sneakers. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re done for the night,” Larry said over Paula Abdul’s _Vibeology_ the DJ was playing.

“You promised me ten songs,” I argued. “It’s only been three, there’s two more queens performing and the finale-”

“Danielle, you’re out,” he said, unlocking the cage. “Don’t make a scene.”

I panicked. Gold Speedo shrugged his skinny shoulders.

I knew why: he wanted the gogo dancers to make more tips, and we were dressed (even if it was skin-tight liquid latex minidresses) in more clothing. I glanced over at Nia, who shrugged at me, in an identical outfit, another gold-speedoed twink waiting outside her cage door. Of course, he was replacing us with cute little twinks. I reached for the door to brace myself, but caught the heel of my platformed gogo boot on the cage threshold.

I went tumbling forward, total klutz that I am. I braced myself for the hard impact of the floor, but I was caught by a strong set of arms that prevented me from an untimely demise.

I cracked an eye open and realized I was looking at the sticky stained pattern of the club’s dance floor.

“Are you okay?” a voice shouted over my head.

“Toots, you’re done,” Larry repeated. “The crowd’s just not up for go-go tonight. Hey, and good catch, Muscles.”

My savior set me down as the dude in a Speedo climbed up into the cage. “You’re alright?” he asked.

I turned around to gaze up into his face. He was clean-shaved and his blonde hair was gelled and styled in a style my grandfather wore. And he had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. “I’ll be fine,” I replied, my cheeks turning red.

I clomped away in the awkward high heels to the backstage entrance, embarrassed.

As I sat down at the dressing room mirrors, I peeled my three-inch long fake lashes off and put them into my makeup case, sighing at my reflection. Waitressing was not going to make ends meet this month alone, and I wasn’t sure how I’d make it through without missing grad school classes.

“Well, doesn’t this suck?” Nia asked, setting down beside me on the bench. She started to take off her go-go boots. “It makes me want to start riding pole.”

“I doubt we’re going to get anything tonight,” I grumbled.

“Girls, I just wanted to let you know, you were doing a bang-up job out there tonight,” Madame Glitter said maternally. She got out her wallet and got out some cash. “Look, all I have is twenty for each of you. I know that’s just enough for some dinner or a nice glass of wine, and a ride back home on the Metro.”

“Oh, Madame Glitter, you don’t have to,” I said. “This is your money-”

“Larry wants you to their pay the cover charge or get out,” she said reluctantly. “Sorry.”

I pulled my wig off and then my wig cap, letting down my brown hair and fluffed my hair back, staring at myself in the mirror in all that heavy stage makeup. “I’m going to see how I can make my money stretch.”

“Maybe you can dive into the arms of another cute boy,” Madame Glitter suggested. “Oh and honey, there’s no way he was straight.”

I snorted at that.

Well, Nia was right: there were bars that only wanted their girl topless, and they made bank. I could go by a stage name…

Of course, that was silly. I didn’t want that following me around in my professional career in Licensed professional counseling.

No, I wasn’t going to do that.

All I wanted was to get home, take off my bra, watch Turner Classic Movies and have a glass of cheap red wine from the box.

Yeah, I was lame like that.

After I took off my boots and hung up my rented dress (which was gross with sweat), I gathered my things and said goodbye to Nia and the rest of the drag queens waiting to go on.

I had to go through the dance floor and the bar to get to the exit, which sucked. I was leaving, and everybody else was having a great time dancing. I wished I could have stayed, but the cover was thirty, I’d have lost money tonight.

Elbowing my way through the dancers, I made my way through to the bar, and saw that cute guy who had caught me. Well, cute wasn’t the word. He was more a Greek god and the whole bar was watching him and his Greek god friends. He was arguing over something with that redhead girl, who kind of made me question my sexuality a little bit, and I saw his eyes drift to me for a second over her shoulder, and then back to her face, but she turned to see what he was looking at.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned.

And then, she charged after me.

“Hey! You!” she shouted.

I felt my blood drain from my head. She was taller than me in her boots was was probably going to murder me and Daniel would let her get away with it. Or at least kick my ass.

Because, you know, being a sucky dancer who didn’t make money was reason enough.

“Stop!” she cried, her finger pointing in my face. “Where are your manners?”

“Uh…”

“Nat, stop it,” the guy said. “Let her alone.”

“Didn’t you learn to say ‘thank you’ when someone does something nice for you, like save you from face-planting in front of a whole night club?” she barked at me, ignoring her boyfriend. “At least have the common decency-”

“Nat, stop,” the blond guy said, grabbing her offending hand.

My face was burning. I had hoped that once I got my wig and that stupid dress off, nobody in the club would have recognized me as the uncoordinated dancer kicked out of her cage. Hell, I was shorter in New Balances without the gogo boots on. But _noooooo_.

Had I broken a mirror in the last seven years that I couldn’t remember?

“No! Not until she thanks you for saving her. She could have snapped her neck if it weren’t for you!”

“Thank you,” I blurted out at the guy.

He looked a little embarrassed, himself. I saw the guy that looked like a dad behind him, who cleared his throat loudly. “Ask her.”

Nat turned to the blond and crossed her arms, glaring at the dad-figure.

He blurted out something to me that I couldn’t understand over the new song. I stared at him for a moment.

“What?” I asked.

He looked terribly embarrassed, and said something that I could tell was _Nevermind_ and started to turn away.

Me? Why was he getting so nervous around me? He was a lot hotter than anybody else in this club. No doubt he could have had any of the women and/or any guy of his pick.

I started to exit the club, but a group of drunk people were blocking it, just standing together laughing and talking about something.

“Excuse me!” I shouted.

Nothing.

“Excuse me!” I shouted again.

I could feel the death glare of the redhead on my back, but I didn’t bother to look behind myself.

“The young wench would like to get through!” the long-haired blond guy came up behind me and bellowed.

Couldn’t this group leave me alone.

“T-thanks,” I stuttered.

“Could you be troubled to stay for a brew?” he asked.

Weird.

“No, that’s okay,” I said.

“My friend Steve asked to buy a drink for you,” he said.

“He- uh, did?” I asked, unsure. I glanced back at the group at the bar that stood out. The redhead and had bought about four shots of vodka from the bartender. The blond guy in the t-shirt that was too small for his frame was watching me, but looked away immediately. “That was nice, but I can’t stay. I have to go.” I slipped out the door past the bouncers.

I started towards the Metro stop, but a pair of cops were drinking coffees on the hood of their cop car and saw me start down the street.

“You know it’s not safe to walk by yourself, don’t you?”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, getting my fist out of my pocket and trying to readjust my backpack.

It was the guy from the club who had caught up with me. 

“What were you thinking, walking home alone at night?” he barked.

“I’m thinking… I’m thinking I’m stretching the last of my money walking home and getting some exercise, stalker,” I barked back. 

He posture softened. “Can I walk you home?”

“You’re really creepy,” I replied. “No, thank you. I can defend myself.”

“You tripped over your own two feet in that dancing cage thing.”

“You try walking in platforms!” I scoffed.

“How are you going to defend yourself? Do you study anything like martial arts, self-defense?”

I hung my head. “No, I um, I was going to use this,” I got the cat-shaped brass knuckles out of my hoodie pocket, but it caught on the fabric. I struggled to get them out, they caught on the inside of the pocket.

“You just got them caught on your sweatshirt,” he said, taking them off my fingers. “You were going to use this to defend yourself?” he asked, holding up my fist with the cat brass knuckles. He slid the knuckles off.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to disguise my realization of how stupid they looked, especially to him.

He crushed them, the points between his fingers, and I gasped. “I- uh- wait, that’s supposed to be brass!”

“They’re made of steel… they were,” he said, examining them. “A cheap version, probably mixed with some kind of weak alloy.”

I blushed. “Okay, I’m not that good at self-defense,” I admitted.

“I’m walking you home.”

“You’re being creepy!” I cried, although he had just demonstrated that he could have crushed my head between his palms if he wanted to.

“I’m just trying to be chivalrous! What are you so worried about?” he asked, surprised.

“I’m… I’m not worried,” I said, fumbling for an excuse. “I just… I don’t let guys know where I live unless I’ve known them a long time.”

“I’ll do my best to forget once we get to your front door. Promise.”

I squeezed my backpack strap. “Deal,” I replied.

We took a few steps together in silence. He was huge: at least a foot taller than me, and his waist tapered down so much that I swore he was built like a Dorito in the best way possible, his shoulders were so broad. “Your name is Steve?” I asked, trying to come up with something to discuss with him. 

“Yeah,” he said.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Uh…. Brooklyn. What’s your name?”

“Danielle.”

“Danielle,” he repeated to himself. “It’s nice to meet you, Danielle.”

“Just call me Dani. That lady that was with you is a good friend,” I said. “She really looks out for you. I bet you look out for her.”

“She doesn’t need me to look out for her, she can take care of herself,” he said.

“So… what do you do for a living?” I asked, trying to think of something interested to talk to him about. 

“I’m in the military.”

“My daddy was in the Army,” I offered.

“Your ‘daddy’?” he repeated.

“I’m from the South, okay? I don’t call my father ‘Dad’ like a Yankee… from Brooklyn.”

“You got me there.”

“What do you do in the military?” I asked, thinking he might have been a Navy SEAL.

“I’m kind of in like… I’m in Special Ops,” he said.

“Oh.”

He didn’t respond.

“Where are you stationed?”

“New York,” he said. 

“Which base?”

“I’m not stationed at a base, it’s a government operation in the city. So, did your father take you all over the country in the military?”

“For a few years, yeah. But when I was about nine, we resettled in Tennessee, he went into copyright law. They live in Brentwood, now.”

“Brentwood?”

“Tennessee. I was there a few weeks ago,” I said. “What about your parents?”

“Both of ‘em are dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”   
“Why? It happened a long time ago.”

I glanced over at him, and saw he didn’t have a lot of old age lines on his face, at least in the darkness. He was probably late twenties, maybe early thirties. It was hard to tell. Had he joined the military because there was nowhere else to go when he turned eighteen?

“That was really nice of you to offer to buy me a drink at the club. It wasn’t you when I said no, just… circumstances.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he said.

“It’s got to be scary to ask a lady out,” I said, shivering my hoodie.

“It is, trust me.”

I realized he was in his t-shirt, not a jacket or anything warm. “Aren’t you cold?”

“A little, but I’ll be alright.” His biceps were the size of my thighs, Lord…

“Do you work out a lot?”

“Of course, I’m in the military. And there are people in this world that can’t walk. Don’t take that for granted.”

I nodded, thinking of my nephew. “I need to get back into it,” I admitted. “I work a lot and I go to school, too. What are you in DC for?”

“Special assignment.”

“Oh, you’re being mysterious?” I asked. “Got something to hide?”

“Well… a little bit,” he chuckled softly in the dark. I was skeptical about him actually being in Special Ops, maybe he was bullshitting me to try to impress me. “I’m not supposed to talk about it. Why are  _ you _ in DC? You don’t sound like you’re from here.”

“School,” I said. “I’m in grad school in psychology. I want to be a therapist.”

“A... therapist?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that sounds a like a lot of malarkey to me,” he said. “Laying down on a couch and telling a perfect stranger your most personal secrets. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Well, sometimes, it helps to get a third-party perspective on your problems who isn’t involved in your life or you in theirs,” I said.

“I thought that kind of stuff is for like… crazy people? No offense.”

“On the contrary,” I said. “Most people who are in therapy are in it to figure out how to deal with the people who  _ should  _ be in it.”

He snorted. “That’s funny.”

“Why?”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“See, you learned something new,” I said. “And I haven’t heard anybody use the phase ‘malarkey’ other than my granddaddy.”

“It’s a great word.”

“Nobody in our generation uses it.”

“I guess I need to take that out of my vocabulary.”

“Well, this is my building,” I said, indicating my complex. “Thanks for walking me home, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. I would say, I hope to see you soon, but…”

“I could use that drink sometime,” I said. “May I see your phone?” I held out my hand.

“Sure,” he said, reaching into his pocket to hand me his. I put my number in.

“If you ever want to call me,” I said, realizing I was being really forward. “Or text me. I do best with text.”

“I don’t do technology very well,” he said. “But I’ll try.”

“Okay. Good night.”

* * *

I opened my apartment deadlocks and went inside my tiny studio apartment. My cat, Lourdes Marie, was snuggled up on my bed, and I laid down with her after getting my bra off through my t-shirt sleeve. “Did you have a good night?” I asked. “I didn’t. Don’t worry, we have plenty of cat food until my next paycheck.” Lourdes rolled over onto her back and exposed her tummy to me. Unable to resist, I rubbed her tummy and her eyes turned to happy slits and her paws curled. “I’d put your expenses over my own at any time.” I kissed her head and she purred. Seriously, I couldn’t sleep at night if she didn’t have cat food in her bowl.

I checked my email to see if I had heard back from my sister, who had sent me cute pictures of my nephew Matthew and niece Peyton, both of whom were under the age of six. They had picked out their Halloween costumes, which were all the rage this year after the Battle of New York a few months ago: Matthew was Iron Man. My heart soared at him in his wheelchair, doing an Iron Man pose. Peyton’s costume had probably been chosen by Lauren herself, a ballerina costume.

I turned on some Ella Fitzgerald, but kept the volume low, seeing as my apartment had walls that were paper thin and my neighbors could be jerks. I read more of my textbooks and case studies for school.

I opened my phone and saw that there was a voicemail from my father and Harland, his husband, just checking in with me. There was a text from my stepbrother Harland Jr, too.

With the lights turned down, I checked the thermostat that kind of sucked, and put my hoodie back on to get in bed.


	3. Chapter 3

After my waitressing job was over, I went to my locker to check my phone, only to find I had a saving grace: Nia had come through for me with a ballroom dance instructor position! I squealed in joy and excitement. 

Dance had been a big thing in my family, especially with my father and his husband. I had been taught to dance when I was a little girl, and while dance had been a huge part of my life, I had gotten to do some dance instruction as I got older. I loved it, but it didn’t pay much. Ballroom though… this job would be me paying the studio for the hour, and the people coming to learn would make donations, I got whatever was left over. I’d be able to make ends meet, if I was careful.

After changing out of my work uniform, I was walking back home when I got a text from a number I didn’t know.

“ _ Dear Danielle, _

_ Hi, this is Steve from the night club. How are you? It was my pleasure to walk you home, although I had to leave to go on assignment early this morning and plans changed, but my work has me going back this weekend to Washington, DC as of Friday. I know you joked that I owed you a drink, and I certainly do. Earlier on the night that I walked you home, my friends and I went to a restaurant and bar called CIRCA in the Foggy Bottom neighborhood for drinks. The bar was quiet and a nice place to meet, I am uncertain if you’ve heard of it before, but I’d like to go back there. If you are free, I’d like to take you out. I understand you are a busy lady and I respect that your time is important, so I understand if you are unable to attend. I did feel that you are easy to talk to, and I do want to see you again. I’d like to hear more about your childhood as a military dependent and your studies in psychology, since I am curious about what you do. If you’d like we can have dinner, too. I hope to hear from you, soon. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Steven Rogers _ ”

_ Who writes texts like that? _ I thought, smirking. It was endearing, albeit strange. I had never gotten an eloquent, well-written text message from anybody like that. I had to laugh, though. He said he wasn’t good at text messaging, but it looked like he had written the whole letter first (and drafted it a few times) and had then transcribed it onto text or copied and pasted it from an email on his phone. 

I couldn’t help myself, instead of making him wait, I typed a response, but then stopped.

He had written a well-drafted letter and shown a lot of effort. He could actually  _ write  _ like an intelligent human being, unlike most of the guys I knew and had dated. I couldn’t write a quick, “ _ Sure, Steve, let’s hang out at CIRCA on Friday, I’m game _ ” response. That would make me look like I didn’t care that he had been so respectful of me and my time. Of course, I was working, I had to tell him so. I opened my email and started a letter draft on my phone.

“ _ Hi Steve, _

_ Thanks for sending me a message. It was nice of you to think of me. I have heard of Circa but not had a chance to go. _ ”

I drew a blank as I got to the Metro station to go to George Washington U. On the Metro train, I got my phone back out and worked on my letter back to him. This was not easy. I didn’t want to look like a moron who had no writing skills after I had prided myself on being a decent writer and settling for men who didn’t care. I was in graduate school! The way he had written to me was impressive. With all the unsolicited dick pics and poorly written, semi-illiterate correspondences from idiots who didn’t understand the differences between  _ your _ and  _ you’re _ I had gotten over the years, I realized how low my standards had become due a sketchy pool of candidates. He had walked me home to make sure I got home safely, and hadn’t pressured me into a blow job when we got to my apartment, although he could have forced me to, he was strong enough. He hadn’t even hinted that he wanted to come inside. I got this niggling feeling that there was something different about Steve Rogers. Something about him reminded me of my father, in some ways. Maybe it was because he had raised me to expect better from men, but all I ever found was disgusting losers and had settled. They always said you’d never find somebody as good as your daddy. I hoped I wasn’t being stupid when I hoped that Steve Rogers was half the man my father was. Maybe I was getting my hopes up.

At school, I opened my laptop up and opened a Word Document, copying and pasting the letter to Steve.

“ _ Hi Steve, _

_ Thanks for sending me a message. It was nice of you to think of me. I have heard of Circa but not had a chance to go. It sounds like fun, I’d like to go. I have seen good reviews from Circa and heard good things about it from my classmates, but I am sorry, I can’t accept your invitation. I work weekends, since I am a server. My manager has me scheduled off on Sunday night, though, if you are still in town. _

_ I found out recently that I am going to be teaching ballroom dancing on Tuesday and Thursday nights. This is good news, and I’m looking forward to it. Dance has been a big part of my life, seeing as there were always dance classes on Army bases when I was younger, and when we settled down, I spent high school in a dance studio. I hope you like to dance, because that’s what I do the most in what little freetime I have these days. If you aren’t a dancer, that’s okay, I can teach you. _

_ Dinner sounds nice, I would love to go out with you, but I don’t know if I’ll have time for it. I need time to read more of my textbooks and the cases we’re using for study in class. I’m afraid of falling behind because the work is intense and the classes move quickly. Maybe you can tell me over drinks about where you went on assignment… if you can. _

_ My Thursday evening class is about to start, and I’ve got to go. I can meet you at CIRCA at nine, if that’s good for you. Let me know. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Danielle Conyers” _

I thought better of copy and pasting it directly into the text message, and ran it through grammarly, first. After correcting my letter, I then sent it back to my email, then copied and pasted it into my text message conversation with Steve, sending it. I had to go to class.

* * *

It was late when I got out of class and spoke to the professor. Steve had read my message, but hadn’t responded.

“Hey, Dani,” Alissa said, waiting on me. She and I had become fast friends when we started this cohort a few weeks ago. “Joel and I are having a watch party for  _ Dancing with Stars _ on Monday at our place.”

“That sounds good, I saw the cast line up,” I said. “Let me check my schedule, if I can get around to it.”

“So how’s everything else?” she asked. Joel, her husband, had moved to DC so she could go to grad school, and they had a nicer apartment in Crystal City, whereas I was in a more dangerous area of town.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“Nothing good happening?”

I shrugged. “Nothing big. I got the ballroom dance class on Tuesday and Thursdays,” I said. “I’m going to be teaching it.”

“That’s great! An even better reason for you to come to the watch party!”

I checked my phone: nothing from Steve, yet.

“Hey, when you and Joel met, how did dating him go?”

“Great. So, what do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. How did you meet?”

“He was in medical school, and I was selling pharmaceuticals at the hospital in Dallas,” she said, smiling to herself. “I lived about forty-five minutes away, and he kept on buying me coffee on his breaks so I could take it on the road. And I kind of realized he liked me, and was a good guy, so…”

“So you did the long-distance thing?”

“Kinda,” she said. “I mean, forty-five minutes isn’t too far away when you’re seeing each other.”

I fought the urge to check the driving distance between DC and New York City on my phone. Making plans with someone was always the end game. It couldn’t have been that far. Maybe the train or a bus. Of course, I wasn’t sure how much free time Steve’s job allowed him or if even was really interested in me. 

“Why are you asking? Did you meet someone on a dating app?”

“No, I just kind of had a nice encounter with a nice guy on Tuesday night.”

“Oh,” she said, grimacing.

“What’s that all about?”

“Nice guys… they’re always so boring until you don’t do what they want.”

“I’ve kissed my share of frogs, hun.”

“No, really. The niceness might be a front. Be careful.”

“Why are guys such scum?” I sighed. “And how did you know Joel wasn’t trash?”

She chortled. “Oh, it was funny. He always asked me to guess where he going to take me to dinner, and he always took me to my first guess, right? I thought I was so lucky, and then one day, it dawned on me that he did that every time we went out and it was a trick because when we first started going out, I could never decide where I wanted to eat if he just asked me outright, “Liss, where you wanna eat?”. I got so mad at him because I knew he was tricking me into figuring out a place to eat without so much fuss, and we got into our first big fight. Then, I realized was a dumbass I was being, because I couldn’t decide where to eat, and he had figured out a way to keep both of us happy. I realized he cared about me and how I felt. That’s when I knew he wasn’t using me.”

I nodded, thinking about it. 

“Again, I’ll ask: did you meet somebody?”

“He’s kind of incredible,” I admitted. “Like, too good to be true. To start off, he’s really good-looking. And he’s got a body like… you know.”

She snorted. “Girl,  _ what _ ?!”

“Well, I haven’t seen him  _ naked _ or anything,” I said, blushing at myself. “He just… he’s so broad shouldered and his biceps were ready to split his t-shirt sleeves.”

“Oh, a body like  _ that _ ? You can tell he’s got a good one before he’s even naked?”

“Basically, yeah. He was really shy, though, but he insisted on walking me home. He didn’t even expect anything out of me for that. So, I gave him my number-”

“Like a lady,” she teased.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And then he wrote me a text that was more like a letter.”

“Oh yeah? Can I see?”

I blushed, yet considered it. Well, it couldn’t hurt. “Okay,” I said, getting my phone up and showing her the message.

She read it as we went out into the lobby. “He’s really eloquent,” she admitted. “You’re sure didn’t hook up?”

“No, of course not!”

“I was hoping you had. Because him writing a whole letter after hooking up would be a really good sign.”

“But since we didn’t hook up?”

“It could still work out okay,” she said. “I’d say a fifty-fifty chance. If you two get together, he could be a really good one. And you were really nice back. You never text-letters to  _ me _ like that.” She fake-pouted.

I smiled to myself, thinking about. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Okay, hun,” she replied.

I went home and read to keep up with school, while the phone taunted me. Steve hadn’t texted me back. In the morning, I woke up and Steve had responded.

“ _ Dear Danielle, _

_ Thanks for writing me back so quickly. I was happy to hear from you. But, I am out of the country on assignment and I won’t be in town on Friday, but maybe on Saturday. I’m sorry to keep this text message abrupt, I don’t have much time and I won’t have my phone on me. You said you were free Sunday, I’ll try to keep you apprised on when I get back Stateside. Maybe we can have that drink sooner or later.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Steve Rogers” _

I itched to ask Steve was the assignment was, but I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. He was a mystery to me. And using a word like  _ apprised _ ? Working it into a letter like that, it was a good sign that he was intelligent, but hopefully not a mansplaining know-it-all.

* * *

Sunday afternoon, I opened my phone as I was getting into my uniform. Steve said he was just getting on a plane back home, and apologized for the ‘abruptness’ of the text message (again with the vocabulary), but said that he’d definitely be in town on Monday.

I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to take Steve to meet my friends and cohort yet at Alissa and Joel’s place. Steve, though… he’d move on a lose interest. I worried that a horde of sexy, glamorous New York Women would descend on him and he’d forget about me. Alissa assured me it would be fine if I said no this time.

I crafted a letter to Steve that I wanted to take him up on going out for drinks.

I fretted over my outfit and makeup, and of course, naturally, I saw a zit forming on my chin. I dabbed some concealer on it, but on the plus side, my hair was smoother than normal and looked good, and there wasn’t any wind outside. Lourdes Marie seemed to agree that I looked nice.

There was a knock on the door, and I grabbed my bathrobe, slipping it on over my underwear (of course, both Alissa and Lauren had advised me to wear unsexy Spanx under my dress and to not shave my legs so I’d stop myself if things went too far with him tonight). I peeked through the door frame, and I saw Steve standing there in dark dress trousers and a blue button-up with a tie and a brown leather bomber jacket… with flowers.

Aww, he had brought me flowers?

I cracked the door open and stuck my head out.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied. “Look, I’m not ready just yet, I just need to get my dress on, if you can just wait a second.”

“Of course,” he said. “Can I come in and wait?”

“Um… sorry, this is a studio apartment,” I admitted, clutching the robe shut. “I’m sorry to make you wait out there. I’ll be quick. Promise.”

“Wait- these are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers.

I found myself smiling as I accepted them.

“Thanks,” I said. “They’re really beautiful, let me put them in water before we go.”

I shut the door and realized I only had a cup from the Nissan Stadium to put the flowers in. But they were gorgeous, three red roses and carnations with baby’s breath and greenery. I didn’t fawn over them for long, but pulled on the velvet dancing dress from Nanny that she had worn when she was my age (probably younger, because she met Pop-Pop before she was twenty-one) and grabbing my purse and Goodwill Navy peacoat.

“Hi,” I said, opening the door. “Thank so much for waiting.”

He looked a little stunned. “Uh… Aren’t I supposed to wait?” he asked. “You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look nice, too,” I added, following him down the steps. I saw a motorcycle waiting and he approached it. “You came here on a motorcycle?”

“I left it here,” he said. “This is how I get around.”

I looked at it, stunned.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before,” I admitted. “Do you have a helmet?”

“Yeah, one,” he said, picking it up from the seat and holding it out for me.

“Oh,” I said, “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, mounting it. I slipped into my coat and stepped up to him.

“Hey, can you help me?” I asked, indicating the straps under my chin.

“I’m really no good with these kinds of things,” he said. “My fingers are huge.” I reached up to try to feel the buckle and strap myself, but he reached up, sighing. “This is going to be a moment.” He struggled with the buckle, and finally got it. I studied his face: a broad jaw, clean shaven, but I saw the smaller signs of exhaustion: circles under his eyes. I saw the shadow of a bruise, and a small cut under his hair that fell over his forehead. Had he been in a fight? In the jungle? I wanted to know. He slid the visor down over my face and it felt like my head was too heavy. I slipped a leg over the back of his bike. “Hold me around the middle. Since this is your first ride, don’t let go. And it might be a good idea to tuck your skirt up so it doesn’t get caught in the wheel.”

“I’m trusting you,” I said, tugging my skirt up and adjusted it, although I could feel the evening chill through my thigh-highs. I wrapped my arms around his middle. He didn’t have an ounce of fat, I could feel his muscles through his leather jacket.

“You can trust me,” he said, zipping up his jacket. “Alright, try to lean into the curves with me and don’t let go,” he said, turning over the engine. The bike came to life. He turned over the throttle and the bike lurched forward. I watched Arlington, Virginia pass quickly outside us, but I was exposed to the night air. It was different from riding in a car or a bus. I liked getting a different view of the cities I lived in, and I started to see things differently.

And I hoped he was different, that he was the man my father had been. He sure seemed different. Or was he going to put the pressure of me for sex once I started trusting him? I wished I hadn’t met him when I was gogo dancing in a night club. Guys always got the wrong idea, like I was easy, or a stripper, when they found out I did dance for a side job. I wasn’t any of those things. 

At Circa, we left the keys with the valet and insisted on walking me inside, opening the doors. Either he was going really far to impress me or he was the real deal, the kind of guy I had always wished for. He rushed to get my chair pulled out, even though it was only a bar stool. The bar was crowded, so Steve stood beside me.

“What are you having?” I asked.

“I’m going with a double whiskey on the rocks, that’s my usual. What do you like?”

“Um… wine in general. I like white wine best.”

“Let’s see if we can get the bartender’s attention. Hey!” he waved at the bartender. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I get a double whiskey on the rocks and- what do you have in white wines?” Steve asked, ordering for me.

“Can I get a white wine spritzer?” I asked.

“I can do that. Do you want the top shelf whiskey on that double?”

Steve shook his head and handed over his card to the bartender to start a tab. “Well is fine.”

“You never told me what made you join the army,” I said. “What unit were you in?”

“I was in the Blue Spades,” he said. 

“Where was that?” I asked trying to remember the different units Daddy had been around when I was a kid on the Army Bases.

“Uh, they were stationed out of Camp Lehigh.”

“We lived there!” I cried.

“You did?” he asked, looking pale.

“Yeah. One of the other wives in the unit taught me ballet and tap in the General and Mrs. Barnes Children’s Center! I loved going there, that’s all I’d do.” Something struck me. “Didn’t Lehigh get shut down about fifteen years ago?”

“I’m older than I look,” he said. “I went through basic there.”

“I bet you knew my Dad, then,” I said, trying to imagine a barely-legal baby-faced Steve Rogers with the basic newbie buzz in the blocks of enlisted men and women, training, with a screaming sargent in his face. “What made you enlist?”

“The war,” he said.

“Oh, nine-eleven, yeah,” I said. “Dad was going to leave the military, but he re-enlisted when that happened. He always tells me it was a huge wake-up call for him and the whole country.”

“It was,” Steve agreed. “You told me you were from Nashville?”

“Well, being an army brat, you end up following your mom or dad everywhere, but he kept our permanent address in Nashville, which was good. When things got rocky between my parents, they sent us home to my grandparents there, and we got into a good school there. My Dad left the military after he and Mom divorced.”

“That must have been tough, living with a divorced mother,” he remarked.

“Oh, no, I lived mostly with my father after the divorce,” I said.

“Hey,” the bartender said, delivering our drinks. 

“Thank you,” I said, accepting mine. “My momma’s not you know… like  _ sane _ .” I rolled my eyes. “I always got along with my father much better. And besides, she got alimony.”

Steve grabbed his whiskey glass and took an eager chug of it. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Divorce is awful, but things were so much more calm when it was over,” I said. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him about my father’s coming out of the closet. “Things worked out for the best. Momma’s a lot happier living in Atlanta, she got her realtor’s license and remarried. Daddy remarried, too. I’ve talked enough about myself, though. Let’s talk about you.”

“Well, there’s not much to talk about,” he said. 

“Was the Army your first choice?” I asked. “Did you go to college?”

“I did,” he said. “Didn’t finish my degree, though.”

“What did you study?”

“Art,” he said. 

“Art history?”

“I know this sounds stupid, but I wanted to be a book illustrator,” he said.

“Like children’s books?” I asked. “That’s not stupid. You have to be really good to illustrate those. You oughta go back.”

“Not just children’s books. I also wanted to draw for comic books, industrial artwork, that kind of stuff.”

“That’s really interesting. I was never very good at art. I never graduated above drawing stick figures.”

He chortled. He finally was relaxing.

“I did take a class in photoshop and graphic design for my undergraduate humanities,” I said.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Didn’t you study that, too?”

He shook his head reluctantly. “Not really. I mostly worked with graphite pencils and charcoal,” he said. “That was my favorite medium.”

“Where did you go?”

“Just a small liberal arts college in Brooklyn,” he dismissed the question. “I’d rather l talk  about you. I bet you’ve done a lot with your life.”

I shrugged. “Sometimes, it feels like I have, but then again, I haven’t,” I said. 

“Why do you say that?”

“I only graduated from college a two years ago,” I said. “I spent a year in Nashville working at a call center, and I realized my degree didn’t make a difference at all, I was working next to a girl who had gotten her high school diploma and she was making the same as me. I decided to get my Professional Counselor’s Masters degree so I could actually make enough money to save.”

“You know, it used to be you get your high school diploma, you could get a great job.”

“Yeah, my Pop-pop said that. He saw a big change when get got his bachelor’s and then he got good-paying work. Now, you have to have a master’s. It seems like a waste of time to some people. But I know I’ll be better off when I’ve got something to work at that I love doing.”

“Don’t you want to get married? One day.”

I shrugged. “I’m still young, I’ve got plenty of time. I’m not ready to settle down. I want to travel more and have a few adventures. See the world. I bet you have in the military.”

He shrugged, and gulped down the last of his whiskey. “I have, it’s just not all it’s cracked up to be when you’re fighting a war. You don’t get a chance to really stop and appreciate things.”

“What rank are you?” I asked.

“I’m a captain.” He didn’t elaborate on it.

“Did you serve in Afghanistan or Iraq?” I inquired to get him to talk.

He shook his head. “So tell me more about what you did in college?” He pointed at his drink glass and made eye contact with the bartender, nodding.

“I majored in Psychology with a minor in Anthropology because it was fun. I did the sorority thing for two years until it burned me out, and I did baton twirling, it’s a dying art. They paid me to do it.”

“You go a scholarship for it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I didn’t get much, just enough to buy my books. I had to go to events and travel to the football games and smile and pose while sleezy guys groped me in pictures. But I loved baton. It’s addictive.”

He looked horrified. “Men were…  _ groping _ you?”

“It’s just part of being a woman,” I dismissed it. “The moment you walk out in a sequined bathing suit, you’re no longer a person, you’re a piece.”

“A… piece?”

“Piece of ass. People forget you’ve got feelings and you aren’t there for them to use, you become an object.”

He considered it while taking a giant sip of his second double. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Yeah, I don’t like talking about sexual harassment.”

He got out his phone and typed into it covertly as I ordered another spritzer.

“Hey, Who are you texting?” I asked.

“My friend Natasha.”

My eyebrows almost raised off my head. “What? Another girl?”

“No, uh, I just remembered something I forgot- like- it’s work stuff,” he said. “Natasha and I work together.”

“She’s your work wife?” I asked.

“Huh? No! We’re not married-”

“Steve, it’s a phrase for your best friend at work of the opposite sex,” I said. “It’s not romantic or sexual. Usually.”

“Nat and I don’t have a relationship like that. She’s like a sister to me, a best friend. That’s why she took me out that night when we met.”

“What were you doing in a gay bar?” I asked.

“Uh, nothing,” he said. “It was more curiosity. Nat wanted to see the show, she dragged us along. It was fun, though.”

“That makes sense,” I agreed. “Although you looked terrified. You sure you were having fun?”

He laughed. “I had a lot of guys offering to buy me drinks. Nat loved it because she grew up in Russia where there was nothing like that kind of club. Hey, I thought everybody was really gay-friendly these days in America, couldn’t I have a fellow for a work husband?”

“Well… maybe,” I said, thinking about it. “Are you the office clown?”

“Nope.”

“Then don’t do it. I bet Nat would have something to say about it if she had competition. She’s in the Army, too?”

“No, she’s a special contract,” he said. “I just don’t want to face her wrath when I get back to New York.”

“Yeah, she was pretty intense,” I agreed. “I could tell she could really tear a person down if they made her mad.”

“Oh yeah, she can do a lot more than that.”

“I honestly thought she was going to kill me when she came up to me in the bar. So, I want to pick your brain… can you tell me more about what you do in Special Ops?” I asked, gazing up at him under my eyelashes to flirt.

He shook his head, and grinned, embarrassed. “I can’t tell you,” he said. 

“Because then you’d have to kill me, huh?” I purred.

“I wouldn’t kill ya, but I’d keep a really close watch on ya. Can you handle that with me? That I can’t tell you a lot of things?”

Well, I had tried. “I don’t know,” I teased. “I tend to get awful jealous, Stevie.”

* * *

 

By the time Steve had had three whiskey doubles, I had had three spritzers, and the bartender made the last call, I realized how long Steve and I had been talking. It felt more like I had spoken more about myself, answered his questions. He warmed up to me as he got more alcohol in his system, and my tongue loosened, too. I hadn’t realized how early Circa closed on the weekdays.

“You know, you look so pretty,” he said. “I love girls in these kinds of dresses. And not a lot of makeup. I like being able to see your face.”

“I’m wearing red lipstick,” I said. “That’s pretty heavy makeup.”

“Not anymore,” he said, grinning. I glanced down at my wine glass, and there were several semi-circles of crimson lip stains. “It’s getting pretty late, why don’t I take you home?”

“Why don’t we call an Uber? Or a Lyft?” I asked, concerned that we had both been drinking, him more than me.

“I have a fast metabolism,” he said. The bartender brought over the tab.

“Steve, let me pay the tip.”

“No, I’ve got it,” he said. “How much is the tax in DC?”

“I think it’s like six percent, but let me-”

“No, I asked you out, it’s traditional for me to pay the bill,” he said. “Why don’t you go get the bike,” he held out the tag from the valet station.

“No, let’s not,” I said. “Why don’t we go for a walk first, and sober up, some? We can go to the National Mall. It’s really pretty at night and this time of year, and I haven’t been much since I moved here.”

“Okay,” he agreed. He signed the tab, and picked up my coat to help me into it. 

The conversations between us were so easy, now. His guard was down, just a bit and started talking more, whereas I felt like I had dominated the conversation most of the night, mostly because he asked a lot of questions. Things were getting so fluid between us, it felt like I had known him a lot longer than week. Flirting came along without either of us really noticing it. I wished that he was staying for longer. He had to go back to New York in the morning. We walked together down to the National Mall, talking about the best burger we had ever had.

“I stand by the best one I’ve ever had was at Sam and Andy’s in Knoxville,” I said. “Perfect, with bacon and barbecue sauce. I think they did something to the beef.”

“I don’t think barbeque sauce belongs on a burger,” Steve said, nose wrinkling

“Oh, that’s right, you’re from New York,” I teased, as if New York was a gross place. “Although there’s nothing like a burger with a fried egg and ghost pepper cheese and bacon on it. So good. There was this really good pub in Nashville where I could get one, Rotier’s.”

“What’s ghost pepper?”

“It’s a really hot pepper blended into monterey jack cheese,” I said. “It’s addictive. Hotter than jalapeños.”

He frowned to himself. “I’m trying to imagine how that would taste together,” he said.

“If you butter the bun right, it’s amazing.”

“Say that again?”

“If you butter the bun right, it’s amazing.”

He chortled. “I like your accent.”

I blushed. “I’m not that bad,” I said, embarrassed. “Hey, we just came out by the Washington Monument!” 

The two-tone obelisk was lit up, and there was a group of people in the lights near the flags at the base, taking pictures.

“It’s really amazing they were able to built this in the 1800s. They didn’t build skyscrapers with steel bone technology when they started this, but they built it anyway. I can’t imagine a feat that was.”

“Me too,” I admitted. 

“I hope I’m not boring you.”

“You’re not! I love history, Daddy made it interesting for us, so I love talking about it!”

“Didn’t they have to pause construction during the Civil War?” he asked. “That’s why it’s two tones, they had to change the quarry they got the marble from?”

“They did,” I said. “I first saw this on a class field trip when I was in eighth grade.”

“I didn’t get to see this until… until I was twenty-three.”

“Hey, the World War II memorial is open,” I said. “Wanna go?”

“You know… uh...”

I grabbed his hand, “the fountain is still on,” I said, tugging on him. He didn’t move. “Come on, we can make a wish!”

“I don’t think I really want to go,” he said, but didn’t let go of my hand. I realized were holding hands in the dark, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I’d like to say right here with you.”

“There’s a bench, if you want to sit down,” I offered.

He and I walked over to a bench and watched the National Mall in the dark. It was surprisingly busy. “I feel like I’ve done all the talking, tonight,” I said. “I don’t think I know as much about as you probably know about me.”

“I’d tell you there’s not much to me, but there actually is. I was serious when I told you there’s a lot I can’t tell you.”

“Like how much?”

“A lot.”

“You’re kidding, right? You can tell me a little more?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have clearance.”

“Here I’ve been talking about myself all night, and waiting on you to tell me about yourself.”

“I’m not that interesting. I work. And I work. And I work some more.”

“I’m like that, too,” I admitted. “I work fulltime and I go to school full time. I hate it, it’s the worst.”

His thigh was pressed against mine, I could feel the heat from it and it was nice. “Why don’t I take you home, Dani?”

“It feels like we just got here!” I cried, my eyes flying open.

“You seem pretty tired.”

“I was just resting my eyes.”

“You were snoring.”

“I was not!”

“I hardly think sleeping on a date is a good thing.”

“Insert inappropriate joke here.”

“The exhaustion of the last three days is getting to me, too,” he said. “I just want to rest my head for a few hours.”

He stood up, still holding my hand and helped me up. He kissed the back of my palm, and we started back toward Circa. It had felt natural, normal… right. 

* * *

Steve took me home on his motorcycle, and as we approached the door to my apartment, I took his hand up the stairs. His hand was warm and large against the cold night air against my own, that was probably turning blue. I wish I had remembered gloves tonight. But he kept me just warm enough.

“I had a really good time,” I admitted as my stomach growled. “I wish I had taken you up on dinner.”

“Alright, so let’s go out to dinner next time I’m in town,” he said.

“When are you in town next?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “My schedule’s a little up in the air right now. But Danielle, really… tonight was really special.”

I was surprised to hear him say that. “It was,” I agreed, getting out my keys. 

I wondered if he was only saying that to see if I’d invite him into my apartment.

While I wished for someone who wanted a serious relationship, not sex, a part of me toyed with the idea of inviting him in myself. My inner slut that I made sure not to let out often was the devil on my shoulder telling me it was a great idea, I could climb him like a tree. My inner prude on my other shoulder was telling me to not risk his opinion of me, and not to do it, that if I did do it with him tonight, he wouldn’t want to see me again.

“Danielle, I wanted to ask you something,” he said cautiously.

Well crap on a cracker, he was beating me to it. “Okay?”

“Can we write letters? Like, actual letters that go through the post office?” he asked. “I’m just used to that. I don’t really like emails and text messages and that Face Place thing. What do you think?”

“Write letters?” I repeated.  _ How romantic and old fashioned, _ I thought. We would sit down and write our thoughts and really work on the penmanship and the structure of our thoughts. It was so old-fashioned. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll call you.”

_ Soon, I hope,  _ I thought. “Okay,” I whispered, and unlocked the door. “Steve?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking me out. Good night.” I stood on my toes to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Good night,” he said, a relieved grin crossing his face. He went down the stairs with that.

And with that, I went into my apartment on Cloud 9.

I felt like a lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going into grad school myself, so I will be very busy. I hope to write more, at least one chapter a week. I hope y'all don't hate me for writing romance that doesn't have a lot of Marvel research. I could use a beta, but I don't have one and I don't know where to find one. If you want to help me, let me know, I'd appreciate it!
> 
> Smut's coming, promise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for the views, the bookmark, and the kudo! I can't believe you're reading my little fic! Thanks again! I hope you enjoy!

I had gotten a nice stationary set with my initials monogrammed when I graduated, but it was gathering dust in my desk drawer. After my date with him, I had gotten it out and started my first letter to him, getting out my Harbrace College Handbook to make sure my letter was properly formatted.

The next day, I worked on my first letter him at bedtime. I usually tried to recap the funny person at the diner who had ordered a meal for both himself and the pineapple he put in the booth across the table from him, hoping Steve would find it funny, too. I got a book of stamps at the drug store and mailed my first letter to him. At home, I checked my mailbox only to find it empty.

I went back to my apartment and tried to study, but instead, I ended up FaceTiming with Lauren and her kids before going to teach ballroom dancing.

The next two days, I tried to start notes on what to write Steve, but I was a little distracted… and hurt. He hadn’t written me. I wondered where he was. I called him on the way to school on the Metro, only to get his voicemail.

Was this him blowing me off?

I was frustrated as hell by this.

Maybe I should have invited him into my apartment that night of our date. Maybe he thought I was boring and a prude for not doing so.

The best thing I knew I could do was not bother calling him again. I knew deep down that I’d only embarrass myself if I did from past experience (especially with Chad). Over some really bad choices, I had learned the hard way to tell if a guy didn’t want me, not to make contact. I had embarrassed myself and had too much breakup sex that way.

I moaned to Alissa before class, and she told me she was concerned that Steve had only told me he was special ops to get in my pants, had failed, and was now moving on.

I didn’t want to admit that was probably the truth.

By the time I had given up hope on Steve writing me back, I went home from work and planned to take off my bra, pouring a glass of wine, and watch the showing of _Samson and Delilah_ on Turner Classic Movies (I personally loved Hedy Lamarr),I stopped to check my mailbox, only to find a hand-addressed envelope among all the junk mail in my mailbox with Steve’s return address.

I signed in relief, and ran back to my apartment to read it.

Steve wrote me about his observations of what he thought a soldier in World War II would have thought of his modern neighborhood in Brooklyn. He drew pictures for me that made me smile, some of a barn and the pastures he passed in Upstate, others in the margins of farm animals. Towards the end, he admitted he had been called into West Point for leading a training exercise and had been working on writing me back ever since. I dove immediately into my desk and found my stationary, putting off studying. My past experience with complete idiots was paying off, ha ha.

It turned out that Steve wrote excellent letters; his penmanship was incredible, so beautiful, as if he hand-detailed the shape of each letter in every word. He had been an artist, of course. He told me more about his daily life and what he was reading. He was funny sometimes, too, in a very subtle way. A smart way. He had discovered _Game of Thrones_ , recommended to him by his friend Clint, and wanted to know if I had read it. I had, just to keep up with the TV show. We wrote letters so fervent, I almost forgot to run it through Grammarly before copying out it out by hand so I could look smarter and better at grammar. He asked me to call him when I had a chance on Friday two weeks later in a letter. I called him during my lunch break at the diner.

“I’ve got a few days of leave,” he said. “I want to come to DC and see you.”

“When?” I asked. “I want to see you, too.”

“I’m getting off on Monday and Tuesday,” he said. “My flight out is at three.”

Alissa had invited me to a _Dancing with the Stars_ watch party again. “How do you feel about _Dancing with the Stars_?” I asked.

“Isn’t that a goofy show with famous people trying to dance?”

“It’s fun to watch for someone who teaches Ballroom dance.”

“I’m no good with dancing,” he scoffed.

“I commited to go to a _Dancing with the Stars_ watch party on Monday,” I said.

“Doesn’t it have a Cardassian girl dancing on it?” he asked.

“Kardashian,” I corrected. “And I respect those Kardashian girls, they are shrewd businesswomen, even if they are annoying.”

“And you want to watch it?”

“Of course. My friend Alissa is having a watch party at her apartment.”

There was a pause on the line, and I swore Steve was about to laugh. “Alright, I’d like to go to the watch party with you.”

I smiled to myself. “Okay. I’ve got to go to work, but I’ve got a letter I’m working on sending you.”

“Write fast.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

* * *

I managed to catch an Uber to the Metro on Monday when Steve arrived at Ronald Reagan airport. I found him at the pick-up with his Army duffle over his shoulder, his blond hair wind tousled.

“So where can I go to get changed?” he asked. “I’ve been wearing these clothes since yesterday.”

“What were you doing?” I asked.

“Military tactics at West Point,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m considered an expert tactician in the military,” he explained. “They trust me, for some dumb reason.”

“Your tactics make you rich?”

“Ha, the Army making me rich,” he snorted. “They just recognize my knowledge from war.”

I helped him into the Uber and the car took off.

“How was your weekend?” I asked.

“Exhausting,” he admitted. “I’m going to enjoy the next twenty four hours with you. You’ve got the driver taking me to the Sheridan?”

“Oh, no, I wanted to go back to my place,” I said. “I need to get changed and get the bottle of wine.”

“I wanted to get changed, too,” he said.

“I’ve got a bathroom,” I said. “You can get changed, there.”

“Fine, but I’m staying at the hotel.”

Steve took a shower once he got to my apartment (I had had a chance to clean up before he arrived). I took the opportunity to get changed in the main room and touch up my makeup. Steve managed to emerge from my bathroom fully dressed in dark pants and a button-up, clean shaven, his hair combed. I salivated at him, wearing a button-up and rolling up his sleeves up, his forearms nothing but muscle. “I’m ready,” he said. “I’m going to meet your friends from school?”

I smile to myself, swiping on my lipstick, glancing back in the vanity mirror. “Yes, I’m calling the Uber.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I can do it.”

“No, please,” I said as he got his phone out. “I’ve already called it.”

“Okay…” he said. “I’m just not really sure on how to use it on my phone.”

“Let me show you,” I said, getting the bottle of chardonnay out of the fridge. “Here, enter your passcode.”

He typed it into the phone and I discovered he didn’t even have the Uber app in his phone. It might has well have been brand-new. “Steve, you’re kidding me, right?” I asked. “You’re always on call for special ops and don’t have the Uber or Lyft app?”

“They don’t have Uber and Lyft in New York,” he said, almost bashfully.

“You’re going to use them in DC,” I said. “Here, let me download them for you. Look, I can understand you not using a lot of apps, but you don’t even have a weather app on it?”

“No, I watch the weather report on the television,” he scoffed.

I downloaded Dark Sky and the Compass app on it, then the calculator one. “Look, I know you’ll need these ones,” I said. “And we can use the WhatsApp if you want to text me when you’re out of the country.”

“I don’t use my phone when I’m outside the country,” he said, sitting down with me on the bed.

“Here,” I said. “I’m downloading WhatsApp. And don’t argue with me.”

He was motionless on he bedside me.

“Steve?”

He stood up silently. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be on your bed with you.”

My phone rang, and I hopped up, getting it off the vanity. It had to be the driver. “Hey,” I said. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting,” the driver said.

“Come on,” I said to Steve.

The Uber was waiting by the mailbox depot, and we almost missed it. Steve outpaced me and opened my door for me to get in. We settled into the backseat.

“You know, I can get the cost of this,” Steve said.

“It’s coming out of my account already,” I said. “How can you not have ever used Uber or Lyft?”

“I was out of the US for a while,” Steve said.

“Uber and Lyft are international companies.”

“Not where I was stationed,” he said.

“That’s okay. Next time. You know, I miss your motorcycle.”

“You liked it?  
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “I liked holding onto you and seeing the world from outside a car. It was… exhilarating.”

“It’s like that,” he agreed. “I’ll take you on the open road sometime.”

“Deal!” I cried.

At Alissa and Joel’s apartment building, we found the door just cracked open. Her place was nicer than mine; Joel was a surgeon and made a decent living, if Arlington, Virginia hadn’t been one of the more expensive places to live in the US. “Hi!” I called as I walked in.

“Dani!” Alissa cried, running over from the kitchen.

Joel and a few other guys were playing _Rock Band_ on the PlayStation.

Alissa hugged me. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “Hi, you must be Steve.”

“Steve this is Alissa,” I said.

“Good evening,” he said. “It’s very nice to meet you, Alissa.”

“You too! Let me take your coats.”

“I brought some wine,” I offered, reaching into my purse to hand her the bottle of Apothic Red.

“You are too sweet! I’m trying to make sure there’s some appetizers ready for when the show starts. There’s some appetizers on the dining room table, help yourselves to the bar, I’ll be right out!”

“I’m starving,” I admitted.

“Alissa!” Kamika called. Kamika was in my cohort. “Hi! You brought someone!”

“I’ve got to introduce you to everybody,” I said under my breath, grabbing his hand. The women had gathered around the kitchen and were sharing a bottle of wine. “Hi, everybody, this is Steve.”

“Good evening, ladies,”

“I’m playing bartender,” Mia said. “What’ll it be? I’ve got wine, beer, and I have the ingredients for a gin and tonic.”

“I’ll take a beer,” he said. “Dani, you want a glass of wine?”

“Sure.”

The ladies were fascinated by Steve, it was probably how much they had heard about him. Before I knew it, they were trying to hand-feed him bites of the appetizers they had brought. I was a little embarrassed, but he handled it. The conversation descended into who was doing well on _Dancing with the Stars_ this season. Alissa came back in and they started taking predictions on who was going to win at this point.

“I’m surprised you aren’t watching this season,” Alissa said to me.

“I’m pretty busy, I work so much,” I admitted.

“Steve, you’re sure you don’t want to join the guys in the next round of _Rock Band_?” Kamika asked.

I squeezed his hand. I wasn’t going to pushed him off to hang out with the guys that he didn’t know and leave him there.

“No, I’m fine,” he said.

“So how did you two meet?” Kamika asked.

“You know I do dancing jobs for that agency? I was at a nightclub go-go dancing, and I was getting down from the block I was dancing on when I fell off, and he’s the one that caught me,” I said, censoring out everything scandalous, like that we were at a gay bar, and he followed me home for my protection.

“You just fell into his arms?” Rachel giggled. “Aww! That’s like something out of a movie!”

“Well, it was good reflexes,” Steve said, brushing it off bashfully.

“How long ago was that?” Rachel continued.

“It was three weeks ago?” I asked.

“Two and half,” Steve said. “I don’t live in this area, and we’ve been doing the long-distance thing.”

“Oh, long distance is tough,” Rachel agreed. “Thank God there’s such a thing as FaceTime.”

“We don’t use that,” Steve said.

My girlfriends looked stunned. “You don’t?”

“We’ve been writing letters,” I said. “We talk on the phone occasionally, but his job is such that it’s hard to find a secure internet connection for him, he’s on the go so often.”

“I’m in the military,” Steve said.

“I think that’s really romantic,” Rachel said. “Nobody writes letters any more, it’s such a different method of communication from something off-the-cuff like text or email.”

“It was something to get used to,” I said. “But it’s made me be more thoughtful and helped me relearn how to communicate by hand.”

“But I’m still having a hard time with your handwriting,” Steve teased.

My friends giggled.

“My handwriting’s not that bad!” I cried.

“I was just kidding. Your handwriting is better than most I see lately,” he said. “Nobody really writes by pen any longer. It’s all typing.”

“I think it started when they eliminated cursive from public education,” Kamika said.

“What?” Steve cried. “I didn’t hear about that! When did this happen?”

“A few years back,” Kamika explained. “I used to be a teacher, I know this.”

“How are these kid gonna read the hand-written documents of our founding fathers?” Steve asked, astounded.

I let Steve have a conversation with Kamika while I freshened our drinks. “He’s everything you said,” Alissa whispered in my ear. “I can see why you like him.”

“I’m just waiting for something awful to happen,” I said. “I always wanted a guy who was cool with my feminism that was chivalrous, too. A lot of people think that feminism and chivalry aren’t compatible, but I think he might be that one that can do both.”

“The one?”

“No, it’s too soon to tell if he’s the one. But he just reminds me of old Hollywood, you know?”

“Me too!” she cried. “In a good way.”

* * *

Joel begged us to join in for one more song in _Rock Band_ . Steve declined, but I agreed to sing a song, and Joel let me pick it. I went for The Car’s _Just What I Needed_.

In all truth, I was not the singer Lauren was. Lauren could sing anything, and had studied music for a year in college before getting her BSN. I tried not to embarrass myself as I took the mic.

“You’re sure you don’t want to play, Steve?” Joel asked.

“I’m terrible at video games, don’t mind me,” Steve said.

The character on the screen started singing, and I started, too. I’m pretty sure I was the only person ever from Music City who couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I managed to get through the song without getting shut out by the game.

Unfortunately, I got the lowest score.

Jerald, Rachel’s boyfriend, got up to go smoke on the balcony.

“Speaking of heroes, did anybody see that expose on the Battle of New York? They’re still cleaning up that city!” Rachael cried.

“I can’t believe that a bunch of _superheroes_ managed to stop an inter-galactic attack from outer space,” Mia said. “Most everyone was evacuated fans left Manhattan for _weeks_.”

“Steve, you’re from New York,” I suggested, trying to bring him into the conversation, but I was over-spoken by Joel.

“I’m bringing up Tony Stark!” Joel laughed. “That man makes me question my sexuality!”

“Only you,” Alissa said, rolling her eyes, laughing.

I took a seat on the giant 12-person sectional sofa beside Steve. I felt some nervous energy from Steve, almost a stiffness radiating off of him. I squeezed his knee and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Everyone has their price,”Joel said. “Hey, if Tony Stark asked me to suck his dick for a million dollars, I’d do it.”

I grimaced, but the whole room burst out laughing. “Ew, babe!” Alissa shrieked.

Steve jumped up. I realized he hadn’t been laughing with the rest of us. “I’m going to go check out the balcony,” he said quietly in my ear and pretty much leapt out of the room.

“Like I said, there are some things I’d do for enough money to pay off our student loans.”

“Joel, we’re trying to have a sophisticated, grown-up party there! Manners!” Alissa cried between giggles. “It’s almost time for the show to start!”

“Would you suck a thousand dicks for a million dollars, though?” Marty asked.

Alissa sighed quietly, staring at the TV as she changed the channels.

Joel stared up at the ceiling. “Over what period of time? Like, over seven months? That’s only like three a day at most, as long as they’re all are STD free.”

“Joel, stop it,” Alissa hissed.

 _Weird,_ I thought as Alissa changed the TV over to ABC.

* * *

Steve and Jerald came back in a few minutes later, talking about baseball. He took a seat beside me as the show started, and I took his hand.

“Are you okay?” I whispered. “Joel was only kidding.”

“I’m fine, just that comment… it just caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was laughing more because I was embarrassed for him than found it funny,” I whispered back. “Joel occasionally cracks jokes like that, he has no shame, sometimes, trust me. It’s hard to embarrass him, he’s told me stories that made _me_ cringe, while he laughs at himself. Can I get you another beer?”

“Yes, please.”

In the kitchen, I went to freshen up my wine and get another beer. I honestly thought that guys in the Army were crass and gross all the time when it was just the guys. Fart and dick jokes were prevalent in the barracks, I couldn’t tell you how many gross sex jokes I had overheard between soldiers on the bases we had lived on. Was Steve just a giant prude with a stick up his ass? Of course, of all the jerks and perverts I had dated since high school, I thought I found the perfect guy and now he was a complete dork and judgmental about sex? Naturally. Just my luck.

“Hey, Dani,” Joel said quietly from behind me in the kitchen. “Look, I’m sorry about that joke. I didn’t mean to scare your boyfriend off.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” I asked. “And Steve and I are just dating, he’s not my _boyfriend,_ just for the record.”

“I know you,” he said. “Was he really that offended by me?”

I shrugged. “Ask him. Is Alissa making you apologize?”

“... _Yes._ ”

I mimicked cracking a whip and went back to my seat with Steve and we watched the show. “This is what you teach, right?” Steve asked me. He had seemed to recover from Joel’s joke.

“Yeah, I teach the Foxtrot and the Tango to mostly older people,” I said. “They’re great, I love them.”

“If we had time, we’d stop by,” Alissa said. “Joel just ends up working so hard in the ER so late, and by the time his shift is up, he’s exhausted.”

“I really do want to go,” Joel said.

“If I could plan out my days off a little better, I would, too,” Steve said.

“It’s late, I’m going to get going,” Mia said.

“Why don’t we wait with her until her Uber arrives?” Steve suggested to me.

“Sure, we can do that,” I said. “Mia, do you mind?”

“I’m actually taking the Metro.”

“We can walk you,” Steve said.

“Much appreciated,” Mia said. “Alright, so Steve,” she said. “I’m trying to figure out where you’re from by your accent. I want to say Manhattan.”

“I was born in Manhattan,” he said. “The lower east side.”

“That’s such a nice part of the city!” she cried.

“It wasn’t when I was a kid.”

“How old are you?”

“Old enough.”

“That’s not polite to ask how old someone is!” I teased.

“Why did you ask where I was from?” Steve asked.

“Phonetics and dialects fascinate me, that’s all,” Mia said. “Yours is so different, and individual. I used to do speech therapy, and I got frustrated with the red tape, that’s how I ended up I professional counseling. So, just lower Manhattan?”

“I spent the early part of my childhood in Lower East Side,” he said. “And then I ended up in Brooklyn.”

“You don’t have the Brooklyn dialect.”

“Brooklyn’s a very diverse place,” he said. “A lot of different people live there, especially in DUMBO. Actually, my parents were Irish immigrants, I was very aware of my speech while listening to them.”

“Irish?” I repeated.

“I knew there a little smidge of that in your voice! Did they speak Gaelige?”

“They did,” he said. “I can still remember a little of it.”

“It’s a beautiful language, too bad it’s dying out.”

“Say something in it?” I asked.

“Okay, here goes… _Ár n-Athair atá ar neamh, Go naofar d'ainim, Go dtagfadh do ríocht, Go ndéantar do thoil ar an talamh, mar a dhéantar ar neamh. Ár n-arán laethúil tabhair dúinn inniu, agus maith dúinn ár bhfiacha mar a mhaithimidne dár bhféichiúna féin. Ach ná lig sinn i gcathú, ach saor sinn ó olc_.”

I thought Mia was going to swoon.

“That was beautiful!” I cried. “What was that?”

“The Lord’s Prayer. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken it aloud. I don’t have anybody to speak it with.”

“I love it,” I said. “I didn’t know your parents were Irish, like old-school Irish.”

“Irish people aren’t that exciting,” he said.

“Are the two of you going with me?” Mia asked at the Metro entrance.

Steve glanced at me. I shook my head.

“See you Thursday, Mia.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Steve added.

Steve and I watched her swipe her Metro card and go through the gate. She waved at us as she disappeared down the escalator.

“Don’t tell me you want to walk home in this weather,” Steve said.

“No!” I laughed, as he took my hand. “I’m not up for it tonight.”

He opened the door to exit the Metro for me while holding my hand. “You seem weird right now.”

“I know,” I said, shivering as a gust of cold wind blew through the fabric of my clothes. “Did that dirty joke really bug you that much?”

“What joke?”

“When Joel was making jokes about Tony Stark.”

Steve stopped for a moment, pulling up the rideshare app, then chortled.

“You’re in the military. I thought dirty jokes were just part of basic training.”

“They are.”

“Then what made you shoot of the room like that?” I asked.

“I can take a joke but… I work with Tony Stark.”

My jaw dropped. “You know him?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” I uttered. “I laughed a really disgusting joke about your friend.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Oh?”

“No, we work together. We’re not friends, but we respect each other. A lot.”

“I’ve always had friends or enemies. Or frenemies. I’ve lost the energy to put up with frenemies. You’re either my friend or not. I’m not going to bother with you if you’re passive-aggressive with me.”

“Tony and I don’t see eye-to-eye on things, but we’re not passive aggressive with each other, either. I’d come through for him if he called me in the middle of the night and asked me to come meet him in the middle of nowhere. But would I go out and have a few beers with him and shoot the breeze? No. Of course, I don’t work with him a lot. He’s a big contractor for the military, I’m just strategy. We’re in two different sectors.”

“So, did the joke offend you?”

“Well… Tony would have found it funny. I didn’t. I don’t find prostitution something to joke about.”

“Okay, so tell a funny joke.”

“You’re putting me on the spot there, sweetheart!”

“I know!” I laughed. “Come on, something from basic.”

“Okay…” he said. “I’m trying to think of one that’s not too bad…”

“Gimme your worst!”

“Okay, I feel like I can tell this one to you, it’s not that bad. Guy walks into the bar, sees a beautiful girl there. He goes up to her and says, ‘I can guess your birthday, all I have to do is grab your tits for five minutes’— I’m sorry, that was the term used when I heard this joke. So she says, ‘I’d like to see that.’ So, she lets him. He’s holding her, and holding her, and after five minutes, he’s still concentrating. After six minutes, she’s getting annoyed, and by eight minutes, she blurts out, ‘Do you have any idea when I was born?’ And he says, ‘I do. Yesterday. You were born yesterday.’”

I burst out laughing. “That was actually pretty funny!” I admitted.

“Well, in the company of lady, I’m going to have the good decorum not to share the worst ones I heard,” he said as our Uber arrived. The driver rolled the window down. “For Steve?”

“That’s me.”

Steve opened the back door for me to get in, and I scooted halfway across the backseat. He got in and I nestled in next to him to get some of his body warmth. He slipped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me.

“Hey, we’re going to stop at her place first, then I’m going to the Sheridan,” Steve said.

“You got it,” the driver said. “Can you just update the app?”

“The app?” Steve repeated.

“Give me your phone, I’ll show you,” I said.

I tried to show Steve how to do a two-stop trip, but he had a hard time following. “I’m seriously not into technology,” he said.

“That’s so weird, because... don’t you use a lot of technology in the military?” I noted.

“That’s… I’m more into strategy and tactics,” he said.

“You’re so weird sometimes,” I murmured

“If only you knew the weirdest things about my life, Dani.”

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me,” I said softly.

The driver pulled into my building complex.

“The first stop?” the driver asked.

“Thank you, I’ll be back in a minute,” Steve said. He helped me out of the car.

“Steve, listen, if you wanted to… you know, just sleep over at my apartment, I wouldn’t mind,” I said softly, taking his hand.

“Danielle, that’s not… that’s not something you do this early on in the relationship,” Steve said reluctantly. He was turning pink in the moonlight.

 _What?_ I was offering him a place to stay _and_ possibly sex? Guys usually jumped at this opportunity. “We don’t have to do anything,” I said, embarrassed. Did Steve think I was a slut just for offering? “It just makes sense. You said you’re not rich off the Army, but I don’t see how you can afford to stay in a hotel every time you come to see me. Hotels are expensive in DC.”

“It’s really sweet of you to offer and think of that, but Danielle, we’re just not… I’m not ready to take that step with you because… I really do like you. A lot. And… I want things to work out, not to be cheap.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, stunned.

“Is it completely abnormal this day in age to want to really know somebody before spending the night together? Or am I just a relic?”

“Do you not believe in premarital sex?”

He slipped a hand behind his head to scratch the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze. “Uhh…. no. I do, but I don’t… I uh, don’t want to do that without a solid relationship, first.”

“Oh.”

“Can I pick you up for breakfast in the morning, though?”

“I’m working the breakfast shift.”

“Well, that went well.”

“Why don’t you come by? It’s the Starlight Diner, just a few blocks from here. I can sneak you some pancakes or waffles, whatever you want. When does your flight leave?”

“Noon. I’ll come by and see you.”

I grinned. “Alright.”

I unlocked the door and Steve went in to get his things before running out to the Uber. “Dani, I promise, I wouldn’t be writing letters with you if I didn’t feel like this wasn’t going to turn out to be something serious.” His hand cupped my cheek.

“You never know,” I said, sliding my own hand over his.

“Sometimes you don’t, true,” he said, his hand snake up to cup my cheek. “But sometimes, you have to take a chance.” He leaned in and kissed me.

A fire lit inside me.

He pressed me against the wall with that kiss, and I almost passed out.

I had forgotten kisses could be like this.

It wasn’t just me, but his mouth was hot on mine, hungry a little bit.

I was tingling all over, like pleasant electricity in my veins, my lips especially. He had an arm thrown around my back and I realized my feet were off the floor, too. He set me down, we were both breathless as I leaned back against the wall.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

He left me breathless in my apartment, going down the steps back to his Uber to the hotel.

But I wish he had stayed longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you who have been reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and since it's so short, I'm posting a second one. I just started school again today, and I'm slightly terrified! Eek! Have a good one!

I could see myself falling in love with Steve Rogers. True, I hardly knew him, he had a lot of secrets, but maybe I could handle them. Maybe he’d let me in on them one day.

The next morning, I started work at about 5 am. I was anxious Steve wouldn’t come back to see me. I fretted at the news, too, that was on the TV over the bar: it was on BBC sky news and apparently, the “super heroes” from last summer had made and appearance in Eastern Europe at the blockade of the Russian renegades who had secured the borders of a mining town rumored to have a vibrainum vein under the city. They had identified some of the superheroes, most notably Tony Stark who didn’t keep his identity a secret, but anybody could be in that Iron Man suit. The others did, although most of them didn’t wear masks. One did, the one who wore a red, white, and blue uniform the mimic of Captain America. My grandfather had all kinds of Captain America memorabilia from World War II when he was a pre-teen and child. I remembered that. The suit didn’t match up, but it was similar enough to draw comparison.

At about eight-thirty, a tall form darkened the door way, wearing a NY Yankees baseball cap, sunglasses, and his leather bomber jacket. It was Steve. “I got this one!” I cried, hopping over the counter barricade to get to him. “You made it!” I cried, kissing him on the cheek. “Let me get you the best seat in the house. How did you sleep?”

“The hotel room was great,” he said. “But I got woken up early on a conference call.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you didn’t get called out!”

“Nope.”

“Can I start you with some coffee?” I asked, blushing remembering that kiss from last night. 

“That would be good, thank you.”

I got the coffee for him while I heard the cooks discussing the bodies of the waitresses, who had the best rack. They didn’t mention me, fortunately, but it did annoy me, although they didn’t think I could hear them while I got Steve’s coffee.

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu?” I asked, delivering the drink.

“I’m ready,” he said and then proceeded to order 2 eggs over easy, the breakfast potatoes, two servings of sausage, a short stack of pancakes, and four strips of bacon.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You can really eat that much?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Watch me!”

I realized we hadn’t really eaten a meal together yet. “Tell you what: we can go to dinner next time you’re in town. When’s that going to be?” I knelt down beside him, mostly because my manager Ron wouldn’t allow us to sit down in the booth with our customers.

“I don’t know when that’s going to be, but it’ll be my first priority outside of work. I think a week from Wednesday?”

It was late, but I was not going to complain. “Okay. We’ll write to each other.” The door bell jangled and a few college students walked in, probably hungover, even though it was a Tuesday morning. “I’ll be right back.”

My section filled up with college kids who were hungover, but well-behaved, but weren’t that interested in polite conversation as I went over the specials. Steve was right: he could eat like a horse and I wondered how hard it had been on him to not eat dinner with me on our dates. We were going to dinner a week from Wednesday, I decided. I wished I had more than a pathetic galley kitchen so I could cook for him. He had already paid for everything on our dates so far.

“Hey, Dani, is that guy in the corner booth your boyfriend?” One of the cooks called.

“What?” I asked taken off guard. “That’s none of your business, y’all!” I sang, sprinkling mini chocolate chips on a hot waffle and getting out the whipped cream.

Cat calls and a whistle came from the kitchen.

“Shut up,” I said, cheeks burning.

I hardly got a moment to speak with Steve, but the other server offered to cover my tables when he paid his bill. 

“I’ll wait with you for your Uber,” I said, taking his hand as we stepped out the door. “I know you can’t tell me a lot of what you’re doing, but I really do want to know. I’ve got a long weekend on Columbus Day. I’ll check bus and train fare, maybe I can come up to see you then, too?”

“Let’s plan on it. I’ll find a place you can stay-maybe with Nat. She’s got a nice apartment-“

“Your work wife?” I asked surprised.

“I’ll ask her if she’s willing to host you. She probably will, just keep in mind, she’s Russian, she not as friendly and welcoming on the surface. She’s hard to read, but I think she likes you.”

“We’ve only met once,” I admitted. “I thought she hated me.”

“Russians have a funny way of showing you they like you. They’re not Southerners.”

“You’re hilarious.” 

“But I’ve said good things about you to her.”

“I guess staying with you is out of the question.”

“I don’t want my friends or neighbors  _ assuming _ things about you.”

I almost snorted. “Steve, it’s perfectly normal to have your long-distance…  _ girlfriend _ ,” I used the word carefully, “stay with you over the weekend. I am your girlfriend, aren’t I?” I teased, although I had regretted using that word.

“Well, of course,” he said as if I were being completely goofy. “We’ve been out three times, that’s pretty serious.”

I almost burst out laughing: with joy. Men dated me for long periods of time and then came out about being polyamorous as an excuse to not settle down. That was not polyamory, it was just wanting to be a player and use women. I briefly thought of Chad, and grimaced. “I’m glad you’re taking this seriously,” I replied as the Uber pulled up.

He leaned in to kiss me goodbye, but I pulled away. “Hey,” he said, surprised. “Can’t I kiss my new girlfriend goodbye?”

“You’re supposed to ask?” I suggested.

“I have to ask to kiss you? We didn’t ask last night.”

“I made an exception. You need to get consent, I’m a lady.”

“Oh, alright, fine. Can I kiss my girlfriend goodbye?”

“Yes, you may.”

When I got back inside and went to check on my orders, Kevin the cook asked me, “Do you say goodbye to  _ all _ your customers that way, or only the guys?”

“Y’all need to mind your own business,” I retorted, cheeks growing red. All I got was cat calls. “And only handsome ones. Y’all can wonder why I never kiss any of you goodbye!”

A collective groan came from the cooks line. “That was stone cold! Savage!”

“And we only talked about your rack when you weren’t in the kitchen!”

 

* * *

 

I taught my ballroom dance class for mostly senior citizens after class after a two hour long class. My favorite guy in the classes was a widower named Berney Schwartz. He was a little hard of hearing, but did stand up comedy, and always had a smile on his face. My ego liked him too, because he told me I was a pretty girl, while usually having a cute, clean joke for me. He was pretty spry for his age, almost 85. I loved having him in my class. He missed tonight, though.

I typed a note to myself to find out what a train ticket would cost me to get to New York for Veteran’s Day weekend when I got home, but on my way to the Metro, my phone rang.

“Hi, Mom,” I said.

“Well, if it isn’t my long-lost daughter  _ finally _ returning my phone calls,” she sneered. 

_ Well, damnit,  _ I thought. Momma had never forgiven me or Lauren for choosing to live with Daddy over her all those years ago when they divorced. Some days, she was fine, others, like today, she bit my head off for just existing. 

“Momma, I did call you back on Sunday, you didn’t answer.”

“If you had, I’d have seen it!”

“Check your missed calls, Momma,” I said, irritation rising. 

“You act like you’re so special since you got into George Washington U,” she slurred. Ugh, This was a drunk dial. I hated getting these. I was reluctant to speak to my mother when she was sober, but I did it. When she was drunk, it was ugly because she had been stewing in things about things she didn’t like about me. She didn’t do it to Lauren as much as she did it to me. I couldn’t tell you why I put up with it. A girl needs her mother, doesn’t she? Guessed I did. “Do you really think anybody’s going to go to someone as crazy as you to get psychological help when you treat your own mother like shit? I’ll expose you to everybody next time you ignore me!”

“I don’t appreciate being threatened,” I said into the phone in a low voice. “It’s abusive, Momma.” 

“Why am I always the one that’s abusive and controlling?” she asked.

“Because you just threatened me. I’m getting on the metro, I might lose you.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, I’m your mother!”

I stepped forward into the Metro and my phone beeped three times. I sighed in relief when my phone said I had lost my call. I had an excuse to let her go for once.

I couldn’t tell you why I didn’t go no-contact with her. If I was able to do my internship and dealt with someone with a parent as messed up as my own mother, I’d have recommended that. But there was a part of me that couldn’t let it go.

I found a seat and closed my eyes. It was moments like these I understood why Steve hated communicating by cell phone and being connected all the time. Sometimes, you just needed some distance from everything.

At my apartment, I took a shower in my tiny shower stall in the bathroom and checked my fridge. The box of wine I had in there was tapped out, and I sighed. I made some tea and sat down to do some reading from school.

I laid in the bed while Lourdes Marie curled up in a ball beside me, sleeping soundly.

My mind needed to clear so I could concentrate.

Steve.

That kiss had left me breathless and elated. It was like riding a roller coaster. I wondered if he felt it, too. He was shaking when he let me go.

He was wonderful. I laid my head down on my pillow and considered what could have happened if he had stayed with me. We sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten much sleep. I couldn’t have slept beside him, my heart racing like it did when we were close. It was racing in a good way. I wanted to feel that way again. 

It had been a year since Chad and I had broken up. A year since I had had felt desirable and worthy. I had tried to bring Steve in to have sex so I didn’t have to feel those feelings of being ugly and worthless. Chad breaking up with me had pushed me into going to grad school, it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. I knew I could get in to the school of my dreams, but I was pursuing school to make up for how ashamed I was when it came to how Chad had left me.

Chad cheated on me.

There’s nothing worse than being cheated on. We had talked about getting married. I had thought he was a constant for me. I had thought I wasn’t going to end up divorced and miserable like my mother. But the admission of cheating… I immediately felt like I wasn’t good enough for him. I wasn’t enough. I had caused this because I hadn’t done more freaky stuff in bed with him. I had embarrassed him. I blamed myself. Laren had held my hand and promised me that I was perfect and Chad was just a piece of trash. But that hadn’t stopped me from taking him back… and of course, he cheated again with someone new. She was prettier than me, blonde and put together, she worked with him at his law firm. After an enormous shit-show of an argument when I had told him that he was sick, he had tried to turn this around on me. He confirmed my fears; I was lousy at sex, unattractive, not enough. He actually said it to me. I didn’t wear my makeup right, I didn’t work out enough, those ten pounds I had gained after college were disgusting, along with the stretch marks, my family was a shameful thing because my father had faked being a straight family man until he left my mother.

Leaving Nashville had been a fresh start for me. I had lost most of that weight when I got to DC, and it was a new start. Steve was supposed to be a fresh start, too. I saw eerie similarities between Steve and Chad: the gentlemen, the chivalry, the secrets. I had tried to smooth things over with sex last night. Sex without knowing someone was just faking intimacy. Maybe Steve was right: we needed to wait, and I needed to make sure he was the real deal and that I could trust him with these awful feelings, I wanted to know that he wouldn’t use them against me. That I was safe with him.

I wished I was completely safe with someone.

I sat up and got my computer out to continue writing my letter to Steve.

 

* * *

 

Steve came to DC the next Wednesday, and we went to see the DC Capitals play the Nashville Predators. I was elated to see my hometown team playing and winning. As always, Steve left me at my apartment door with a kiss and a promise that this was a good time for me to come for Veteran’s Day weekend, he’d work out a place for me to stay. Again, I realized I knew nothing new about Steve. A part of me was elated that he hadn’t asked to stay the night for a third time, but also, terrified.

I bore the jealous and scared idea that there was another woman. I tried to search him on the internet, but the vast thousands of men named Steven or Stephen Rogers in the United States slowed me down. I didn’t even know his birthdate.

Was I the other woman? Was he married and that was why he was encouraging me to stay with Natasha and not at his apartment? Maybe his wife lived in the country and he had an apartment in the city? Was this why he insisted on hand-written letters and not electronic correspondences, because his wife knew his passwords?

I thought I was over all that Chad did to me.

Now, my imagination was running wild and getting paranoid.

I got a letter from him four days after he left. 

_ Dear Dani, _

_ I’m sorry to keep this letter so short. This morning, I woke up thinking about you, and how much I want to show you around my hometown. Natasha is ready to host you, she’s making up a bed in her spare bedroom... _

He hadn’t changed his mind about me staying with Natasha. I wondered if he was waiting for me to worship the ground he walked on for his own narcissistic reasons. The secrets he kept spoke volumes.

I reminded myself to keep my distance until Steve really revealed who he was, deep down as I read the rest of his letter. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter posted in a day. I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading! XOXO

I stepped off the train with my rolling suitcase into Grand Central Station in New York City. I had been to New York before, but always by plane. Steve was easy to spot in the crowd: just slightly taller, dark blond, wearing that leather bomber jacket. His eyes had already found me in the crowd.

“Steve!” I cried, dashing across the floor, trying to avoid running into people.

He held his arms open for me and I jumped onto him. I suddenly was too shy to kiss him, so I hugged him. “How was your trip?”

“I got a lot of reading and studying done for my finals,” I said. “I brought you something, though.”

“What?”

“I’ll give it to you when I get unpacked,” I said. He took my rolling suitcase from me without asking and took my hand and we walked out of the train station.

“You’re really going to like New York,” he promised. “I’ve already made plans.”

“You didn’t have to,” I said. “I’d be fine just hanging out with you, studying, while you, I don’t know… sketched or read a book?”

“No, I’m going to show you a good time,” he said, taking me towards the taxi line. “I got a good recommendation on a restaurant. I can’t wait to see what you like. It’s Asian fusion.”

“It sounds amazing,” I salivated.

“But you probably want a chance to stop off at Natasha’s first, and get changed.”

“That would be good.”

In the back of the taxi, he wrapped and arm around me to keep me warm. “I like having you here,” he said softly after giving the cab driver the address.

“I like being here.”

“You just arrived!”

“I know,” I said, grinning stupidly.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him so badly and hold him close. But we were both so nervous about being the first one to initiate physical affection, at least in public.

We crossed the Williamsburg bridge as Steve asked me about my courses and how I did on the group projects. I tried to make them sound interesting as the arrived in DUMBO. I had been to New York a few times, but we had always stayed in Manhattan, never Brooklyn. The cab pulled up at a brownstone apartment building. Steve paid cash to the driver and helped me out with my suitcase, buzzing apartment 3C. The door buzzed and opened. “This is Natasha’s building, she’s actually going out of town tomorrow, but she wanted to be here to meet you,” he said as he lugged my suitcase up the stairs to the third floor. I followed behind him, panting from the effort of carrying my laptop bag, he wasn’t even breaking a sweat, but he had my entire rolling suitcase.

Natasha’s apartment door was cracked open, Steve knocked before walking through the threshold. The apartment was all in neutral colors, clean lines and black leather furniture and glass. “Hey, Nat?”

“Hi,” she said, emerging from the kitchen. “I just made some spice tea, there’s cookies on the coffee table. Hi, Dani, it’s nice to see you again. Come on in, sit down, Steve, can you put her things in the spare bedroom?”

“On it.”

I took a seat on the leather couch as she came back with a few steaming hot mugs of tea. “How was your trip up?” she asked. 

“It was great; I had all the time in world to study and just relax. I love living in cities where you don’t have to have a car.” She handed me the mug. I took a sip: it was delicious, but not as sweet as the 'Russian Spice Tea' I used to get at the cafes in Nashville that had Tang in them. I had the feeling this was the genuine article. “This is really good.”

She smiled, pleased. “Thank you. I’m happy your travels were uneventful. Make yourself at home, though. I don’t know if Steve told you, but I’m leaving town tomorrow, so you’ll have my apartment to yourself after tonight. Just a warning: I don’t care if you go into my bedroom, but I am not responsible if you hurt yourself with any of the weapons I have in there.”

“Oh, I understand,” I said. “I was raised in a household with guns.”

“They’re not guns,” she said a smirk on her face.

I swallowed.  _ What? _

She winked at me. “As long as you stay out, you’ll be fine. But I’m happy to show you, anytime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I actually have something for you as a thank you for hosting me,” I said, “it’s in my suitcase-“

“You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“Oh, but I did, I’m Southern, we don’t arrive as guests empty-handed.”

“Well, that’s very Russian, too. I think we’ve got that in common. Please eat the cookies, or I’ll end up snacking on them before bed!”

“Don’t spoil your appetite, we’re going to dinner tonight,” Steve said, emerging from the spare bedroom. “I’m taking her on a tour of Brooklyn afterwards.”

“Have you ever been to Brooklyn?” Natasha asked.

I shook my head, smiling nervously, picking up a ginger snap cookie. “Manhattan only.”

“Ah. Well, you’ll have to tell me about all you saw. The key is on the kitchen counter. I wish I could stay, but I have a date of my own.”

“What?” Steve asked sharply. “Who is it? So I know him?”

“Can’t a girl have a private life?” she snorted. I sensed a big brother-sister vibe between the two of them. “The TV remote is on the end table if you want to watch, there’s a fresh towel in the bedroom, make yourself at home. Oh, and you're welcome to my hair styling products. Have a good night,” she dusted off her spotless pencil skirt and strode out of the apartment on at least four inch heels like she had been born in them.

“Call me when you’re ready for dinner. I have reservations at six,” Steve said, getting up.

“Okay, I’ll be ready at 5:30,” I stood and kissed him quickly before he left.

After a hot shower, my energy returned and I realized Steve was going to be here to pick me up in twenty minutes.

Was I going to go home with him? I wasn’t sure. My legs were shaved and I put on some lacy, matching underwear while I got ready. I rushed through my makeup and hair routine and the door buzzed while my hair was only half straightened. I rushed to answer it, fumbling with how it worked. 

“Hey, are you ready?” he asked

“My hair’s like half done,” I admitted. “Come up, if you don’t mind waiting.”

I thought I had cracked the door open to Natasha’s apartment, but there was a knock on the door a moment later. 

“Hey, sorry,” I apologized, opening it. “My hair does not want to lay flat today.”

“Why do you want it straight?”

“Because curling it would take longer,” I muttered in the bathroom, sectioning off a layer.

"You don't just get out of the shower and go?"

"No, my hair is not naturally like this at all," I said. "I'm not as naturally adorable as you, Steve."

"Hilarious." He sat down on the couch to channel surf and I finished my hair and put on my dress. I packed my clutch so I wasn’t carrying my purse all over Brooklyn, putting in a compact, my lipstick, license, my debit card, and… I decided on a condom and lube, just in case. 

“Hey, can you zip me up?” I asked, coming into the living room.

“Oh, sure,” he muttered, mid-bite with a cookie. “You look beautiful.” He reached for my half-zipped dress and gently tried to tug the zipper cord up. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Ready?” He asked, turning off the TV.

I grabbed my clutch. “Let’s go.”

We arrived at the restaurant on time, and the table was waiting. “I am starving,” Steve admitted. 

“I have only seen football players eat like you do. Where do you put it all? A hollow leg?”

“I have a fast metabolism. When I was a kid, if I ate too fast or too much, I’d puke.”

“Then what changed?”

“Eh, I grew up.” 

Steve and I talked about what was going on in the news, and I told him how it affected me as a therapist in training. He asked me all kinds of questions about myself, and again, I ended up being the dominant subject in our conversation, almost like he was afraid of telling me something. I watched him eat like a horse while I dug into my pad thai. 

After dinner, he took me out for a drink at a pub across the street. “Why do I feel like I’m always the one extracting things from you?” I asked.

“You know why,” he replied, taking my hand as we crossed the street. 

“Well, tell me something about growing up here.”

“That,” he said pointing with his freehand, “alley is where I used to get beat up all the time.”

“Beat up?” I responded shocked.

“I had a bad habit of mouthing off to obnoxious people that were bigger than I was when I got out on my own.”

“But didn’t you get to your full height by like, age fifteen?” I asked, confused. He said his mom died when he was eighteen. 

“No, actually, had a growth spurt after that,” he said. “And that’s where there used to be a movie theater.” He pointed at an office building. “It showed uh… movies from the thirties and forties.”

“Oh, that’s a shame they tore it down,” I sighed. 

“They have a few theaters in Manhattan that show old movies during the week. Midnight showings.”

“I wish I could be there for it.”

“Maybe in the future,” he said, opening the pub door for me. 

We had a few beers and talk about some older movies. “I love Heddy Lamar. You know she invented the secure frequency that the military started using during World War II, but she never really got credit until after she died. Such a shame.”

“What?” He cried, almost spitting out his beer. “You’re making that up!”

“No, true story.”

“How? I thought she was just some British dame for MGM!”

“Oh no, she was a lot more than that,” I said. “She invented a lot of things when she wasn’t at the studio.”

“I’m going to have look that up,” he said shaking his head. “There were some incredible ladies on the allied side during World War II.”

“And a lot of them didn’t get recognized until a few years ago,” I added in. “Like Nancy Wake.”

“Great lady,” Steve agreed.  “Did you know about Peggy Carter, the special agent from England?”

“Yeah, I heard about her in my women’s studies classes,” I said. “She worked closely with Howard Stark, your friend Tony’s grandpa. I know she was close friends with Captain America before he disappeared.”

“That Captain America guy sounded like a giant meatball to me.”

I laughed. “You know she was one of the first agents working for S.H.I.E.L.D. In Hollywood.”

“She went to Hollywood?” he asked, looking stunned.

“Yeah, under the guise of being a secretary.”

I did a search on women allied spies in World War II on my phone and read them off to Steve. He enumerated on what the internet got wrong. Steve had an incredible knowledge of World War II, it seemed. “How do you know this stuff?” I asked.

“Uh, studying World War II is important with strategy,” he said. “Like the Civil War, World War I…”

“Oh, okay,” I said. “Daddy loved making history come to life for us, that’s how I learned about them. When we were stationed in Germany and he had a few days off, he’d Lauren and me to historical places, like the last piece of the Berlin Wall standing in memorial in the middle of the woods.”

“It still blows my mind that we’re friends with the Germans and Japanese, now, and not Russia.”

“My father lived through the Cold War, and he’s not. West Germany got a do-over after World War II. Probably one of the most efficient and wealthy countries in the world, now, asides from the Middle East.”

“They kind of get a bad rap, I guess. Hitler was very charismatic and there were other factors at play.”

I nodded. “Germans know how to throw a party,” I added.

He laughed. 

After a few drinks, he closed our tab, and we decided to walk back since it was unseasonably warm and all I needed was a my peacoat. I needed to get the alcohol out of my system.

“That’s where I live,” Steve said, pointing with his freehand at a building on the corner. His other hand held mine. 

Was he asking me up for me to spend the night? After all the trouble he want to so I could stay with Natasha? “Would you like to show me your place?” I asked, my nerves coming through my voice.

“It’s not much,” he said. “But, okay.”

The building had an elevator, an old-fashioned cage type. On the second floor, Steve opened his front door for me and let me in. 

I was surprised how little personality it had when he flipped the lights on to the living room. It might as well have been a hotel room, the furniture was so plain and there was a complete lack of wall decor as the lights came up. It was so  _ tidy _ , too, like it had just been through a deep cleaning. There wasn’t even a bookshelf that I could see or television.

“Have a seat,” he said. “I’ve never had a girl up here before.”

“Since you moved in?” I asked. The lack of personal items made me wonder if my worries that he was using me to cheat on another woman go wild. Was this a city apartment where he brought unsuspecting women to so he could seduce them without his wife knowing? Was Natasha in on it?

“Can I make you a drink?” he asked, opening a cabinet. “I have a single malt whiskey, a scotch, I’ve got a few beers in the fridge, too…”

“I could go for a beer,” I said, trying to keep my faculties.

Things just didn’t add up with him, I realized in a moment of clarity. Yeah, he was hot, a gentleman, and told me all the things I wanted to hear, but was putting off sex with me a method of buttering me up so that I felt so much towards him when it happened that if I found out he was married, I’d be involved too let him go? Was he manipulating me so much that I’d do something like that? Because he was so earnest and everything about him screamed that he was genuine. Was he the best liar I had ever met? If he was, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever go in psychology as a therapist. It would mess me up royally.

“I notice you don’t have a TV in here,” I said as he brought the beers in.  “What do you do to relax?”

“Read, mostly. I used to sketch a lot.”

“I like your sketches in our letters,” I admitted, resting my freehand on his knee, then pulled my hand away. 

“Your stick figuring drawings are cute, too,” Steve said. I saw a slight grin on the edges of his lips. “I especially liked the one with heart eyes.”

I blushed and grinned. “I was inspired by emojis,” I admitted.

“This world is so strange sometimes. I don’t know where I fit into it, but there are other times I feel like you understand,” he said. “I guess that’s why I keep up with you.” 

I leaned into him, pressing my head into his shoulder. “Same with you.” He laced his fingers into mine. 

“Dani, do you ever feel like you could accept the strange and abnormal being real?”

“What?” I asked, taking a sip of my beer.

“Like science fiction…  _ not  _ being fiction.”

I shrugged. “They always say Star Trek is getting closer and closer to reality.”

“Yeah, something like that. Like time travel.”

“Oh, I loved  _ Back to the Future! _ And HG Wells,  _ the Time Machine? _ ”

“I didn’t read either of those.”

“ _ Back to the Future _ is a movie trilogy. You’ve never heard of it?”

“Uh… no, not really.”

How? How had he missed one of the greatest science fiction action summer movie franchises of all time? Daddy had gotten me excited about it when I was a kid because it was one of his favorites. “You don’t know Doc Brown and Marty McFly?”

He shook his head. 

“Deloreans?”

“Is the the plural of ‘Delores’?” he chortled. “I knew several women named Delores.”

“Okay, if I can find a showing, we need to go. If I had my computer, I’d play it for you,” I said. We sat in amicable silence for a few minutes. When I turned to look at him, and his eyes were closed. “Are you asleep?”

“No,” he said, eyes opening. “I’m just enjoying this moment with you is all. You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, although it wasn’t quite true. He balanced his beer down on his knee as I closed my eyes, too, the day weighing down on me. His fingers snaked through my hair, and it was a pleasant sensation. I wished I didn’t have these concerns weighing me down, distracting me. 

“Dani, I um… can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” I said, hoping kissing him would put these concerns to rest.

He cupped my cheek with one hand and lifted my face. I closed my eyes and his lips pressed against mine. I felt myself trembling. He lips trembled, too, and he applied a little more pressure, and my lips parted to take his lower lip in.

_ Why are you just laying there like that, Dani? Are you a pillow princess now? Is that your new name? _

My eyes flew open and I push him away. My red lipstick was on his lips, and he looked stunned.

Steve was not Chad. Chad was an asshole. It had been a year since we broke up and I needed to stop carrying the weight of that bad relationship. It had spurned me to leave Nashville, but it made me worry. It had exposed me to the realization that men could take something like your trust and shatter it, and men just _did_ that. 

“Steve?”

“Yeah? Are you okay?”

“I think I need to get back to Natasha’s,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it's okay, um... are you alright?"

"I-yeah. It's just been a long day."

"Okay I'll call a cab for you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone— thank you for the reads and the kudos, especially Sparrowlina! Thanks again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, sorry for the cliffie at the end (no pun intended). Steve’s a little emo and very angsty in this part. I used some online MCU databases and the Captain American Wikipedia page to fill out his bio and put in a little but of what I thought his childhood during the depression must have been like. Muah XOXO

I used my key to get it to Natasha’s apartment only to find the lights up and she was sitting on the couch in pajamas. Steve had kissed me goodnight as he helped me into the cab and had paid the cabbie before sending me off. Always the perfect gentleman.

It almost seemed strange seeing Nat in cutesy pajamas on the couch. She said hi and looked up from her glass of wine and the TV.

“I hope your date went well,” I said, taking off my earrings.

“Well, dating in New York is for crap,” Natasha said. “You’re welcome to the wine in the fridge.”

“Wine in the fridge?” I asked.

“Boxed wine. Don’t judge.”

“Oh no, you’re a girl after my own heart!” I cried. “What are you watching?”

“ _Grey’s Anatomy_. I have it recorded.”

“Let me change clothes, I’ll join you.”

I went into my little closet of a bedroom and changed into my pajamas, taking off my jewelry and got out my present for her. I helped myself to a glass of wine from the box. Natasha had at least had one glass already.

“I meant to give you this earlier.”

“Oh, nice! I love candles. They calm me down.”

“This one is vanilla-scented,” I said, handing it to her. “Okay, so tell me, why does dating in New York suck?”

“So, I’m all for money not being the end-all-be-all of life. But the guy who picked me up basically had the most ridiculous Ferrari and he didn’t even know how to shift gears without messing up the clutch. And at the bar, he did nothing but brag about his job and all the money he made. And then I watched him undertip the bar staff. I know enough about living in the States that people in food service depend on tips to make a living wage-“

“No kidding,” I added, a new appreciation for her.

“--And those people at the bar just looked livid, so I left a tip for them when I told him I wanted to leave. He got mad at me for that, and start complaining that maybe I should’ve paid the bill if I think he didn’t tip enough and got up in my face. I basically told him that if he’s got so much money, he needs to tip like a basic human being. The bar staff applauded me and he told me I wasn’t that pretty anyway, and I said, ‘I seriously don’t care if you think I’m attractive or not’ and caught a cab home.”

“Whoa, really?” I gaped.

“He was probably coked up.”

“No, you told a guy off!”

“Well, of course. Would you?”

“I know better; men could snap you in half.”

Natasha burst out laughing.

“Oh, I forgot. You’re special ops, like Steve.” I remembered she was his ‘work wife’ and I needed to be careful with what I told her.

“He hasn’t told you much about what he does, has he?”

“Is he allowed to?”

“Not really. But you’re that afraid of men?”

“At night when I’m outside, yeah.”

“Stand up, I’m going to show you some basic self-defense moves.”

I gulped in horror. “I am not a fighter.”

“A fighter fights fair. A survivor fights to the death to defend herself without any rules. When someone attacks you unprovoked, all bets are off. It’s okay to do something that would normally be unfair, like inflict possibly permanent damage.”

“Oh, I walk with my keys between my fingers in a fist all the time,” I said, standing up.

She huffed at that. “Not enough and you can break bones in your hand doing that. Okay, I’m going to come straight at you, what do you do?”

She came at me, arm extended to grab my throat. I panicked and started to duck but she was too fast and caught me anyway. “Okay, look, if my hand touches your neck, shove the heel of your palm underneath my wrist to break my hold.”

Nat proceeded to show me all different kinds of way to defend one’s self from attackers, but I did a horrible job of responding. I squealed and discovered I was virtually helpless and saw a little annoyance on her face. I’m pretty sure we woke the neighbors and they wondered what we were doing.

By the time she was done showing me basic self-defense, I collapsed on the couch: she had barely broken a sweat.

“You know, the night Steve and I met, he was walking me home because I had no real way of defending myself.”

“You Americans,” she sighed, swallowing the last of the wine from her glass on the way to refill it. “I can’t understand why he asked for you to stay with me.”

“He says it’s too soon,” I said. “Should I be worried?”

“Aww, that’s cute.”

“Why?”

She came back into the room with a full glass of wine and a glass of water for me. “Dani, were you ready to share his apartment for the weekend and he said no, or was it the other way around?”

“The former.”

“You mean he didn’t want you to stay there?”

I nodded chugging the water. “He’s interested, right? Just taking things slow?”

“He comes from a different time,” Nat said. “Like, a very different way of thinking.”

“Did he spend time Amish or something?” I asked. “Because he hardly knows anything fairly recent about pop culture. He doesn’t like talking about his past.”

“He has a reason behind that,” she said brow knitting in worry. “Don’t worry; he’s got the purest, most valiant heart of anybody I’ve ever known. Although he sometimes thinks in black-and-white, but if you bring him back, it’s fine. He’s the most chivalrous person, he always volunteers for more on-call shifts than the rest of us, because he has nobody to come home to, and no job outside of what we do. I think a devoted girlfriend and partner would be a good thing for him. You will always be safe with him, he’ll never hurt you.”

“That’s nice to hear, but… he’s got secrets. You can’t build a good relationship based on secrets.”

“He can’t tell you some of them. The rest are pretty unbelievable.”

I swallowed, nervous.

“If he trusts you with it, it’s worth it. Trust me. I’m going to bed, I’m leaving really early tomorrow for the country.”

“Where?”

“Oh, a friend’s. We haven’t hung out much in a while and just wanted to hang out and drink vodka. But listen, about Steve: please be careful with his feelings.”

I swallowed.

“I understand a lot of relationships don’t work out, breakups are inevitable. But, if you lead him on and break his heart, if you’re cruel and callous with his feelings and hurt him just for your own entertainment, if you are manipulative or use anything against him, I’ll make sure you apologize to him.”

“I’m not like that.”

“Okay, good. Good night, Dani.”

I was shaken by Natasha’s threat. I knew she could kill me, even though she hadn’t said it outright. I had no intention of hurting Steve for my own amusement.

I brushed my teeth and took out my contacts before going to bed in the tiny spare bedroom. Sleep did not come easily to me that night, I stared at the ceiling, reviewing all the things Steve told me: his parent were both dead and had died “a long time ago.” They were immigrants. He had been born in the lower east side, and it “hadn’t been that nice” of a place to live when he was a kid. I didn’t know old he was, and he deflected every time I asked. He deflected on a lot of things he didn’t want to answer, distracted me with other things. Not wanting me to stay with him was weird. Why didn’t he want me to stay and up his chances of sleeping with me?

I didn’t sleep much at all.

In the morning, I got up when my phone alarm went off and texted Steve that I was up. I found Nat was already having coffee, reading her iPad in the breakfast nook and a rolling suitcase was by the door. “Good morning,” I said.

“Oh, hey,” she said. “Help yourself to coffee. I just heard from Steve, and he’s on his way over with breakfast.”

“What’s he bringing?” I asked.

“Bagels. You’re okay with that?”

I nodded, pouring a cup of coffee.

“I hope I didn’t scare you last night,” she said to my quietness.

“Oh, you didn’t,” I lied. But she had: she was going to kill me if I messed Steve up.

“But I meant what I said, don’t get me wrong.”

“His secrets weird me out,” I confessed.

“I’m sorry about that. They’ll come out in time... if you can handle them. But I love him a lot like he was my own brother, so you understand why I’m so protective of his heart and who he’s seeing.”

I had the feeling Natasha knew what the secrets were and they were intense. “I mistook you for being a possible friend,” I said stiffly.

”I  _do_ like you, but not as much as I care about Steve. I’m on your side. Both your sides. Don’t give me a reason not to be.”

“I’m going to get dressed and ready for the day, he’s taking me out to do touristy things,” I replied abruptly. I took my coffee to the bathroom to apply my makeup and dress for the day.

By the time I was done, the door buzzed and I heard Steve coming in the door. “I brought breakfast!” he called.

“Hi!” I cried, coming out, fully ready to go. He was holding a paper sack. I stood on my toes to kiss him and Natasha was standing in the kitchen doorway.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked me.

“I’m too excited to be in New York to sleep,” I said, taking his hand. “What kind of bagels did you get?”

“Plain, But I brought lox, capers, and cream cheese.”

“You’re going to love it,” Natasha said.

“Lox? Like fish?”

“Salmon,” Steve said. “And it’s delicious.”

It actually ended up being good when I tried a bite of his before making my own. Natasha gave me the number to her super and told me to call him if anything went wrong, and that she was only available by text while she was out in the country. “Be careful of my room, remember?” Nat said.

“I won’t forget,” I replied.

“I’ll keep her occupied,” Steve said. “You girls had fun last night?”

“Natasha taught me some self-defense,” I said.

A grin crossed his face. “I bet that was exciting.”

“I am a complete newb,” I muttered.

“She can’t always have a big, strong man with her at all times,” Natasha said. “I taught her a few secrets.”

“Which moves?”

“Well, can’t a girl have a few secrets to her own?” Natasha asked. “Well, of course, secrets aren’t a good thing in a relationship. Dani, you might as well tell him what I showed you.”

I glanced up to see if Steve had caught that: he was wiping up a few drops of coffee from the counter.

“I could take you on, Dani,” he teased, oblivious.

“Not interested right now,” I said. “I have a few bruises that need to heal first.”

“Not too many?”

“No, not really.”

“I have so much planned.”

“Great. Have a safe trip, Natasha.”

“I will,” she said, putting on her coat.

“Where are we going first?” I asked, sweeping up crumbs off the floor.

“Radio City Music Hall. They’re moving in the Big tree and they have the ice skating rink open.”

“I haven’t been ice skating since I was a kid,” I admitted.

“Neither have I,” he said. “This’ll be fun.”

* * *

It only took Steve a few minutes to pick up ice skating whereas I fell on my butt so many times, I was certain it was going to be completely black and blue and too bruised to fit into a pencil skirt I had brought for dinner. “You trust me, right?” Steve asked skating backward in front of me, tugging me along.

I panicked. Trust him?

I saw the hint of a smirk on his face. “What are you gonna do?”

“Some Olympic style stunts!”

“Steve, no!” I shouted, wringing out of his grip and his grin fell. I proceeded to stumble and tumbled onto the ice again.

“Dani, I wasn’t going to anything more than pick you up,” he said, picking me up. “Did you think I was going to drop you?”

“Well, that’s a moot point, now,” I muttered, rubbing my sore butt. “This was fun, but my butt doesn’t like this anymore.”

“I was about to suggest we go get some lunch. Come on.”

After we found a food truck for lunch, the food vendor told us about a concert in SoBro. Steve looked confused.

“They make new neighborhoods everytime I turn around,” he grumbled as we left the truck. “This city is so different from when I was a kid.”

“They’ve done that for years!” I cried. “They do it in Nashville, too, now.”

“Well, at least the Empire State Building is where it’s always been. That’s where we’re going next. I got tickets.”

I squealed. “You did! I’m so excited, how far can you see?”

“To all seven boroughs.”

When we got in line at the building, Steve and I played a game of I Spy, only I lost every time he spotted something. By the time we got into the elevator to get to the observation deck, we realized the visibility was pretty poor. But the city itself was magical.

I was transfixed.

“Is it true that if you tossed a penny off the observation deck you could kill somebody on the ground floor if it hit them?” I asked.

“Nah, that’s not true, that rumor’s been around since I was a kid,” he dismissed it.

“When  _were_ you a kid?” I asked.

“Um,” he thought about it. “Um… longer ago than you think.”

I drew back. “Why can’t you answer a simple question like that?” I barked.

“Dani, let’s not do this here-“

“You won’t answer questions-”

“I’d rather not answer questions than feel compelled to lie to you,” he hissed.

“Then tell me the truth! Are you younger than me, do you think I can’t handle dating a younger guy?”

“No, Dani, I’m not younger than you,” he said, exasperated.

“Then why can’t you tell me things like about your childhood?”

“Because… because childhood for you is so different than what it was for me,” he said.

“What is it? What happened that you’re so secretive about when you were born? Were your parents illegals who smuggled themselves into the country when they overstayed their visas or something? I’m not going to tell anybody!”

“No, my parents came here legally. But my childhood was  _very_ different from yours.”

I shrugged. “I doubt it was much different from mine.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you something about me. I was a really weak, wimpy kid. I had all kinds of medical problems, and the military rejected me a bunch of times. I spent time in a wheelchair, I’m a little sensitive about it.”

I was stunned. He had been  _that_ sick?

“My father died in combat before I was born, too, so there. I don’t like talking about being robbed of a father. My mother was a nurse and died really suddenly, so stuff sucked, pardon my French. I lost all my friends but one, too, but it’s too hard to talk about it.”

“In combat?”

He but his lips together. “Yeah. The worst was losing Bucky.”

“You lost your best friend?”

“Yeah. We were like brothers, but when we enlisted we were in the Blue Spades together, I saw him die.”

“That’s horrible,” I admitted.

“I pray for him every night before bed.”

“His name was Bucky?”

“James Buchanan Barnes. I think about him every day.”

He carried that wound in his heart. All semester long, I had done nothing but learn about how little boys were discouraged from showing grief and something like losing your childhood best friend had to have traumatized him greatly. I found myself slipping into the therapist role and asking questions.

“Tell me about your mom?” I asked.

“She was tough, but fair. Like most Irish Catholic moms are. She was a nurse. Like your sister.”

“She had her BSN?”

“The equivalent, yes. She was smart, but she got involved with some really scuzzy guys when I was a kid a few times. We both got beaten up our fair share of times by them, but the police did  _nothing_ about it.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, taking his hand. Such a painful admission. I felt tears forming in my own eyes. I hated abusive people.

“The neighbors would call them, and Mom would be sobbing in the corner, and they’d take him outside to walk round the block a few times, while telling my mother not to make him angry, then he wouldn’t hit her.”

My stomach soured at those words.

“It usually made it worse. It didn’t help for the police to come by.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I wish it never happened to you.”

“Well, it gave me a serious distaste for bullies,” he said. “And I learned pain is temporary and dames love scars. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“I had no idea,” I admitted.

“Alright, so I’ve embarrassed the hell out of myself,” he said. “I’m sure you must think I’m a real chicken for not fighting them off.”

“I don’t think that at all.”

“After Mom died, I almost went to seminary while I lived in the homeless shelter at church.”

“You were homeless?” I repeated, stunned.

“For a short time, yeah. A few times. Mom and I got evicted when we came up short on rent. It was like camping, I guess. Just we were hungry and cold and didn’t know when it would end.”

“She’d be proud of you now, and all you do.”

“One can only hope,” he said gripping the bars looking out over the city.

“Can I ask what she died from?”

“A lung disease.”

“Lung cancer?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is she buried near here?”

“Yeah. In a mass grave out in Queens. I was too poor to buy her a grave plot.”

I almost choked.

“We were Catholic, remember? No cremation.”

“Where did you go to school for art?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“It was called Auburndale. It was, by today’s standard, unaccredited. The degree would have meant nothing. It’s been closed for a while. What else do you want to know?”

“I didn’t mean to provoke you.”

“...I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I feel like I know you better,” I said, thinking about the secrets he kept and the ones Nat played gatekeeper for with me.

“Maybe dating you… dating you is a bad idea.”

My stomach curdled.

“You’re breaking up with me on the spur of the moment?” I sputtered.

“No, just thinking aloud.”

“You don’t say those kinds of things if-“

“Maybe I’m better off alone altogether and it was a mistake to try to bring you into it.”

“What?” I cried.

“I’ll send you back to Nat’s place. I’m sorry Dani, it’s me, not you.”

I guffawed in shock. “If that isn’t the oldest break up line in the book!” I cried, horrified. “I’m sorry I wanted to know you better, Steve!”

The look on his face was painful. “Let me take you home.”

“I’m fine getting home without you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grad school is going to kick my butt for the next two days, the days I usually submit chapters for this story on AO3, so I'm putting it up the night before. I hope y'all like it. Special thank-you to Novicepearl and Sparrowlina for the lovely comments! Don't worry, we're not anywhere near the end, y'all. I'll submit a second chapter this week because this one is kind of short, too.

Back at Nat’s empty apartment, I kicked the door open and slammed it behind me, ripping off my coat and flinging it on the couch, almost knocking over the lamp.

 _Damn you, Steve!_ I thought. The moment he opened up to me, he cut me off and dumped me.

I pulled off my boots angrily, flinging them to the floor. I had spent the past three hours lost on the New York City subway that was a million times more complicated than the DC Metro, trying to get back to Brooklyn with homeless people hitting me up for spare change.

I took the hottest shower I could manage, and scrubbed the city off me, my stomach roiling with equal parts of hurt and rage. I didn’t cry. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

Instead of studying as I needed to for my end-of-semester exams coming up, I turned on the TV for distraction, but found very little: Nat mostly subscribed to news networks and CSPANN and some Russian channels, there was nothing to distract me like E! Entertainment Television or HG TV. I got out my computer to get on the Turner Movie Channel app, but the app shorted out.

Frustrated, all I could dwell on was Steve and that incredible body that he hadn’t shared with me, as if I were repulsive.  _Well, he did say it was me after all,_ I thought swearing to myself to start working out harder and eating less. Was it because I wasn’t in majorette shape any longer?  _It’s not you, it’s me_ was code for, yeah, it really is you.

Who the hell did he think he was? Those secrets bugged me to no end. I had tried to research Steve before but had no luck.

_James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes._

The name echoed in my head.

Wait, I had more information.

I opened up my search browser and typed in his name.

A wealth of URLs came up, and I saw an old photograph from the Army archives of a handsome young man, but the hat was propped to the side. This was a picture from a long time ago.

Was this Bucky’s grandfather?

My stepbrother was Harland Lewis Bettencourt Jr, so I searched for  _James Buchanan Barnes Jr_ , no luck.

James Buchanan Barnes still came up.

He was the son of General Barnes.

General Barnes was the General that had a family center erected on Camp Lehigh.

With shaking hands, I typed,  _James Buchanan Barnes World War II_

I saw Bucky Barnes in an old black-and-white photo, and to my shock, standing next to him was a familiar lower half of a face under a half mask. Bucky Barnes had known Captain America. And that face was Steve’s.

* * *

I felt sick. Was this Steve’s father? He bore too much of a resemblance.

The caption said,  _Captain America liberates 200 from behind enemy lines_.

The more I researched, the more I saw it.

If I believed Steve had been Captain America, he had died in action in 1945 before VE Day.

I researched Captain America and World War II since one of Tony Stark’s Avengers was a man who dressed in disguise as Captain America, whom everybody believed was a tribute to the old hero lost in action.

I found a lot of information that had been censored by the Army. Captain America had never been named, but the Army and the State Department said they knew  his name. The USO show came up, and the message boards said that there had been two Captains in WWII: the USO actor and then the expert super soldier who had become an expert tactician behind enemy lines.

Falling down the rabbit hole, I searched for Steve Rogers born between 1910 and 1925 in New York, and I found records of a birth certificate for a baby boy born in a Catholic hospital in 1920 that had been a few weeks premature, to a widow named Sarah Whaley Rogers and the deceased Sargent Joseph Rogers. The baby was named Steven.

My head spun, but I kept searching. Joseph had been a soldier in WWI, and Sarah a TB ward nurse. Both had immigrated to America in 1919 as a newlywed couple and had gone through Ellis Island.

Of course, this couldn’t be  _my_ Steve.

But the story was lining up so effortlessly to what Steve had told me on the Observation Deck of the Empire State Building.

Was Steve a time traveler? Was that even possible? All kinds of secret science experiments were being carried out by the mysterious organization named S.H.I.E.L.D. that had put out the Avenger’s Initiative, and the Avengers had saved New York in an intergalactic battle against someone who said he was Loki, the Norse god of mischief.

I looked up the sudden reappearance of Captain America last summer in the battle of New York, and the security footage that had been salvaged of the Avengers on random message boards, delving into non-accredited sources this time.

Captain America had the same silhouette as Steve. That could be pulled off, but I watched the security footage of him running. It was like watching pictures being shown at a fast pace, but I recognized Steve’s running gate and his movement. Then, the grainy footage of Captain America as his hooded cap and half mask had been knocked off his head: a blond, broad-jawed man, and a piercing blue gaze, a warrior expression.

There were only a few blurry pictures of his face.

But it was Steve.

Steve’s stories had always had holes in them that had bugged me, but they were puzzle pieces and the story suddenly became complete with the time-traveler narrative I had put together in my head. But time-travel wasn’t  _real_. Right?

Steve told me his history was too strange to be real. Nat had seconded that. I looked through the footage, and I realized it was Natasha fighting right beside him in the battle of New York.

I was cyber-stalking superheroes in a superhero’s apartment.

This was surreal.

He had talked about sci-fi and time travel last night, and I had completely missed the point. He was not on an Army Special Ops team; he was an Avenger, working for the mysterious S.H.I.E.L.D. He  _had_ been Army once, and the Blue Spades had been an special ops team during World War II. And he certainly was a captain, that was true.

I wandered around Natasha’s apartment, stunned. I couldn’t just sit still.

Was that it had been too hard to explain this to me? What had made Steve say those things on top of the Empire State Building today?

The clock on the wall said it was almost 3 am. Well, I was going to find out.

I put on my boots and coat over my pajamas and started down the stairs to the street. The icy wind tore through my pajama pants as I ran down the street with my iPad tucked into my coat, holding it tight.

At Steve’s apartment, I looked up to his floor, and saw the lights still on. I rang his door buzzer, shivering.

“Can I help you?” Steve’s confused voice came through.

“Steve, it’s me, Dani,” I stuttered through chattering teeth.

“Dani? What are you doing outside at three in the morning?” The apartment entrance door buzzed and I pulled it open. It wasn’t much warmer in the foyer, but the wind wasn’t tearing through my clothes. I took a moment to breathe in relief and then took off up the stairs to his apartment, only to meet him at the top of the stairs.

Our eyes met, and I shivered.

God, he was beautiful, but…

“I want to know how you were Captain America in World War II and right now.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter in a two-chapter night! Enjoy! See if you can spot the non-Avengers fan reference I stuck in here, if you're dorky enough (like me) to know it.

Steve immediately shushed me and dashed down the stairs. “My neighbors cannot know, especially not Helen,” he whispered, slipping an arm around my shoulders to warm me up. “Come upstairs, you’re freezing.”

I followed him up to his apartment, where he turned on the record player and disappeared into the kitchen to put a kettle on to boil.

“What the hell were you thinking, Dani? Going out in late fall in New York in the middle of the night in your night things?”

“Don’t deflect, Steve,” I said. “How did you do it? Travel time? Can S.H.I.E.L.D. do that?”

“No, not really,” he said, emerging from the bedroom with a blanket that he wrapped about my shoulders. “If I could travel time, don’t you think I’d have gone back to find someone to date? To care about?”

“Tell me everything.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Of course you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you, Danielle. I only omitted the things that were too difficult to believe.”

Technically, it was true. But omission was just as bad as lying… right? “Then tell me what you can.”

“Alright. I was born in 1920 to a war widow. My father was killed in action during World War I, I guess that was a part of why I wanted to serve so badly: to honor his memory, to serve during a war, I got in by a miracle, and that miracle was because a particular scientist liked me. After a science experiment, I was turned into a super soldier. When I told you I was a wimpy kid and had a growth spurt after age 18, it was true: it was because of the experiment. I got onto the front lines, that’s where I learned tactics and strategy. But Hydra was the organization behind the Nazis in WWII. I was part of a task force that took it down. They located the Tesseract and I managed to capture a Hydra plane containing it that was disabled and didn’t get a chance to bomb America. I crashed the plane and it’s bombs meant for the US into the Arctic so America didn’t suffer a second Pearl Harbor. I was expecting to die in the crash, but I was frozen instead, and early last spring, S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing an Arctic expedition and they found me in the plane, and I was alive in the ice, just in a deep state of cryogenesis. I woke up in what looked like an Army hospital room, but it was a setup. They were only trying to ease me into the truth: it had been almost seventy years since that crash.”

I was stunned.

No wonder he hadn’t known all those pop culture references, yet seemed like such an expert on WWII. And to hear about successful cryogenesis on a human being was pretty much unheard of. The kettle whistle went off, and Steve went to the kitchen to pour a hot tea for me.

The apartment was bare because he had woken up, his identity assumed dead, and all of his things had probably been dealt with by the Army, disposed of and destroyed.

And if he had told me, without my own curiosity sending me to research his identity, I’d have run screaming from him and called the police. Of course, he couldn’t tell me. How hard had it been to carry such a huge secret that he was unable to tell me since we had met?

It really  _had_ been him, not me.

I was furious at myself for running away like I had this afternoon on the Empire State Building.

I could only imagine how harsh was on himself today. The idea of being forever alone because of a freak accident…

“Have you been trying to tell me this?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess this is difficult to believe.”

“I wanna know where we’re going, Dani,” he said. “I thought maybe I could trust you. I lost an entire life, seventy years. I’ve got a second chance at it. Can I trust you?”

I bit my lips together and tears welled up in my eyes. I looked into my heart of hearts, could I accept that Steve occupied a realm of life that was beyond imagination, but real? He was older than my Nanny but had the smooth face of man 70 years younger than he chronologically was. What did this mean for his future? He came back and felt personally responsible for the good of humanity, and that meant sacrifices on my part, too. I thought about all the times I had seen Daddy pack up his military field gear while Momma shouted and screamed at him for re-enlisting and being dragged out for weeks at a time in the field. I hated him leaving, but this was military life. It was even more terrifying when he was sent out in combat. But deep down, I had had faith he’d always come back. “Of course.”

I had to keep that kind of faith with Steve. I couldn’t blame him for omitting the cryogenesis. Or leaving out chunks of the story all this time. I could tell it killed him to do so as the tears slid down my cheeks. “Are un-breaking up with me?” I asked.

“If you’ll have me.”

I stood up, dropping the blanket and rushed into his arms. It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, his too.

“It felt like you didn’t belong in this time,” I admitted.

“I don’t think I’ve belonged in any time,” he muttered, stroking my back.

* * *

Steve and I stood together, holding each other, in the middle of his apartment for what seemed like an hour or so. After the weight of this cloud had lifted between the two of us, I felt ravenous suddenly. I had forgotten to eat in my anger, and now that it was evaporated, I realized I was a little lightheaded, now.

“Can we get something to eat?” I asked. “I was so upset I haven’t eaten since that food truck in downtown.”

“I haven’t either,” Steve said. “Let’s see what I’ve got in the fridge.”

Steve fridge had a few items in, not much. He had a dozen eggs, so he got out the sole pan in his dish drain and made some scrambled eggs for us. It was amazing watching him when it struck me what a different time in America that he had been alive.

“Tell me about your life in the 40s.”

“Not much to tell. I worked as a scrap metal collector and lived in a room in a boarding house before I got into the military. I didn’t have much going for me.”

“You must have gotten really strong that way, pulling scrap metal,” I rubbed my eyes. I was suddenly so tired.

“No, not really.”

“What?”

“I was 4F-ed six times before they let me enlist.”

“That means you were rejected?”

“They rejected me because I was too much of a medical risk. I told you I was weak growing up, right? I also was about 5’1” on a good day, ninety pounds soaking wet, and wheezed like an accordion because of my asthma. I had a whole mess of things wrong with me. You probably would have stepped on me before dancing with me.”

“Hey, two inches is not a big difference,” I said, pointing to the top of my head.

“You’d have walked right past me.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I’d have tried to be your friend first.”

“I wasn’t good at talking to girls. I’m still not. Dr. Erskine didn’t fix that.”

“I saw the mention of a Dr. Erskine.”

“You ran across that in your research?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m a grad school student, I do a lot of research.”

He got two plain white plates out of the cabinet and put a spatula full of eggs on one. “Is this enough?”

“A little more?”

He scooped some more in and brought the plate over to me at the little kitchen card table. I started shoveling my food into my mouth.

“Do you know how nice it is to be able to unload this on somebody who isn’t part of the initiative?” he sighed. “There were moments I felt like I did when I had asthma when I couldn’t tell you the whole story: I can breathe again.”

“I’m glad,” I muttered. “No really, I am.”

“You know, I had the perfect evening planned last night,” he said. “I found a ballroom where a twelve-piece orchestra was playing.”

“You’re kidding!” I cried, disappointed. He was thoughtful and noticed the things I liked. I had almost run away from a relationship where we actually could have worked it out, and cared. “And I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“You mean this afternoon.”

“Ugh,” I groaned. “Too soon.”

“Do you want to go lay down? You look tired.”

“I am,” I said softly, eating my last bite of eggs.

“You can have the bed.”

I put my plate in the sink and held out my hand to him.

“Come on,” I whispered. He stood, eyes never leaving mine, and I tugged his arm toward the bedroom.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to… you know… share a bed?”

“Not at all. We don’t have to do anything. I just want to hold you.” I pulled back the covers and sat down. “Which side of the bed do you like?”

I saw him smirk, that smirk that drove me crazy. “The center.”

“I’m taking the right side,” I said, untying my boots. I unhooked my bra through my t-shirt as he rounded the other side of the bed and climbed in with me. I snuggled up beside him, resting my head on his chest. He kissed my hairline and squeezed me. I buried my face in the soft, warm t-shirt fabric covering his chest and sighed.

My time traveler.

My relic.

I couldn’t be angry with him for breaking up with my stop the Empire State Building: I couldn’t say I’d have done any differently if I were in his situation. I hated to think about it, but I might have lied if put on the spot. He didn’t. He had never lied to me. That was incredible.

He didn’t belong in my world, but I wasn’t going to let him go. I certainly didn’t feel like I deserved him.

I dozed off and when I woke up, I was alone in the bed. I saw a note on the nightstand with my name on it: Steve went on a run and assured me he’d be back soon. I heard the radio on in the other room, and it was light outside. I went to the bathroom and squeezed out a little toothpaste onto my finger and brushed my teeth. He had a giant porcelain claw foot bathtub and I groaned. I missed having a good, hot soak in a tub. The next time I came here, I was going to do nothing but take a hot bath and read my textbook and drink a glass of wine.

After I got the wet sock taste out of my mouth, I saw Steve was standing at the kitchen sink, looking out the window to the skyline, and was sketching the buildings as the sun rose on a sketch pad.

“You’re up?” he asked, not even turning his head

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Quarter of seven.”

“Come back to bed?” I suggested, thinking about doing dirty things to him.

“I don’t sleep that much. It’s a beautiful morning, too. Can I make some coffee for you?”

“Okay.”

He poured coffee for me as I sat down at the tiny card table in the kitchen. He made it as I liked it: creamer, no sugar. I accepted it as he sat across from me, taking my free hand, kissing my fingers.

“Who was that one friend you didn’t lose?”

“Her name was Peggy.”

“Oh?” I asked, surprised. A woman?

“Peggy Carter.”

“What, really? No kidding?” I asked, stunned. We had just been talking about her last night. He had known a legend? Well, he was a legend.

“We’ve spoken. She doesn’t mind writing me and remembering things, but she doesn’t want to see me, now. She doesn’t want to ruin my memories of her. I had no idea she had continued her work in Hollywood, though. She’s in a nursing home in England, now, her mind is sharp as a tack, but she’s gone through some cancer, a few other things. I happy she went on with her life after the war. She married, had kids, and now grandchildren and great-grandchildren. That’s more than I could have asked for with my friends from… it feels like only a few months ago, but it was seventy years...”

“Was she your girlfriend?”

He shook his head. “No. We kissed once, right before I crashed and was considered KIA. I was the worst thing that ever happened to me when I woke up. We had a date. An actual date and I was looking forward to it. But now, if the crash hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

I noticed the way his eyes danced over me, the playful his lip corner unintentionally curved up when he looked at me. It made me squirm a little bit, but I liked it. I liked the way he was looking at me, and it wasn’t objectifying or lustful. I made him happy. And he made me happy. What more did you need?

* * *

He took me home so I could get dressed for the day.

“Be very quiet on the way down the stairs. I have this creepy neighbor in this building named Helen, and she’s um…”

“She comes on too strong?” I asked.

“Yes, basically,” he grimaced, getting his coat on.

He shut the door behind us and started to lock it, and I realized I didn’t have my iPad. “Crap, I forgot my iPad.”

“Here,” he said, handing me the key. “Lock up, and I’ll hail a cab.”

I had left my iPad on the couch. I tucked it into the inside pocket of my coat, and locked up the door, only to hear some woman who sounded like she had clogged sinuses and couldn’t control the volume of her voice, saying, “STEPHEN!!”

“Oh, hey, Helen,” Steve said, his voice a little strained. “Nice to see you.”

I peeked over the railing to see Steve’s path being blocked by a blonde woman with an incredibly square chin. “How are you, Stephen? How are you doing? Your hair looks all ruffled, are you sleeping okay?”

“I was just heading out for the morning,” Stephen said, looking terrified of her. I saw him grimacing.

I swallowed my laugh and came downstairs. “Hey, honey!” I said. “Who’s this? Hi, I’m Steve’s girlfriend, Dani.”

Her bulbous eyes widened and a look of pure hatred flashed across her face.

I held out a had innocently to shake. She didn’t take it. I slipped an arm around Steve’s waste instead. “Hey, you found your iPad?”

“I did.”

“This is Helen Horbach, my neighbor,” Steve said.

“Hi,” Helen muttered, mouth-breathing. If looks could kill, she’d have killed me.

I smiled sweetly and serenely. “It’s nice to meet you,” I repeated. “We’re going to go get some breakfast.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she muttered.

“It’s good to see you,” Steve said, guiding me past her to go down the next flight. “We’ve got to go.”

I patted his back, understanding what he meant by a weird neighbor.

“ _I wish you were my calculus homework because you’d be hard and I’d be doin’ you all night long,_ ” I heard her mutter as we walked out the door.

“She was so creepy!” I cried as Steve stepped forward to hail a taxi.

“Tell me about it! She just doesn’t understand when I tell her no,” he said, opening the door to the cab for me. “She gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

I laughed.

After we stopped off at Natasha’s apartment for me to get dressed and some makeup on, he took me on a tour of Brooklyn with a lot more history. He pointed out every alley he remembered being beaten up in back in the 40s that were still standing, where shops had once been, where the State Fair had been held where he saw Howard Stark’s hovering car prototype.

“That was where a speakeasy had been in the 30s in the basement when alcohol was banned. It’s nice to see that they put a new bar in there recently.”

“Did you ever go to speakeasies?”

“A few times to fetch my mom’s boyfriends,” he said. “And that was the spot of a speakeasy gay bar.”

“Really?” I asked my eyes growing wide.

“It was whispered. The fuzz busted it a few times that I remember. Homosexuality was illegal back then, they considered it a location where lewd acts were being performed.”

“Like prostitution?”

“No, I got the feeling they were all just having a drink and a good time, being themselves. That shouldn’t be a crime.”

“No, it shouldn’t,” I agreed.

“There was a toy shop there,” he pointed. “They always had the best model train display in the window when I was a kid. Man, I wanted that train. And that used to be the cafe where I’d go if I had a few extra dimes to buy a pork chop or something. You know what I loved on my vegetables back then? Molasses.”

“Ew!”

“I actually got used to the taste. It helped with vitamin deficiencies. Oh, there’s where a Hoovertown was before the police cleared it out a few times.”

“You said you were homeless a few times in your life.”

“Yeah, Mom and I lived in these twice. I hated each time. They could be frightening. But living with her newest bastard boyfriend was exponentially worse.”

I squeezed his hand through my glove.

We went back to Natasha’s apartment so I could pack up the last of my things. “I’m going to have a hard time seeing you off at the train station,” he admitted while I gathered my makeup. “When can I see you again? Thanksgiving?”

“I’ve already agreed to fly home to Nashville. Daddy bought me a plane ticket home,” I said. “Maybe I can bring you along?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family time.”

“I think they’d like to meet you,” I said going to the guest bedroom to pack my suitcase. He watched me from the doorway. “I want you to. You’ll love them. I know they’ll like you.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” he said, cautiously. “But I’m on call all that week. I could get called out at the drop of a hat.”

“I’m only staying about a day and a half,” I said. “I have to be back for work on Saturday that weekend.”

He sighed. “I just want to be myself around someone and just relax.”

I reached for his hand and drew him into the room and I backed up until the back my thighs met the mattress. I laid back slowly, bringing him down on the bed on top of me. I felt his nerves, his want, and his embarrassed smirk. His hand cupped the back of my head. “We’ve got an hour,” I told him, lifting my head to meet his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The non-Avengers fan reference was Helen Horbach from Help Helen Smash. Incredibly silly videos done by a very talented comedienne. Her character Helen has a crush on a teacher too old for her and his name is... STEPHEN! Every time I hear her say "STEPHEN!!" I start thinking of Cap, lol! Go watch it!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got really excited about releasing more chapters, so this is a mid-week release, a little out of order for my Monday chapter releases. I am excited about this fic, although it’s not finished, I really, really want to get the meat of the story! I hope y’all enjoy!

I called my father to wish him a happy Veteran’s day, but he didn’t answer while I was on the train. I left a message and told him I wanted to bring somebody to Thanksgiving dinner, if he’d call me back so we could make arrangements. I didn’t hear back from him until that night when I had picked up Lourdes Marie from Alissa and Joel’s.

“You’ve got a new boyfriend, Dani girl?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “He’s military.”

Daddy groaned. “Please don’t say Marine Corps.”

“No, he’s Army,” I replied. “His name is Steve and he’s from New York.”

“Army, huh? Good. Infantry?”

“Yeah, something like that. Hey, Daddy, do you still have Pop-pop’s memory trunk?”

“I’m not sure, but you can check when you get here, it’s probably in the attic, last time I checked.”

“Alright. It was good talking to you, I’ve got get ready for work early tomorrow.”

“All right, honey. Say hello to Lordy for me. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I felt a nervous and giddy: my family knew about Steve. Would I tell them about his true identity and the cryogenesis? No, that was his place to tell them. When the time came.

Steve and I talked everyday by phone, and the letters between us were written fast and furiously. I received a letter from him at least every other day, and I tried to keep up.

After class on Tuesday afternoon, I packed dirty clothes and dropped Lourdes Marie off at Alissa’s (who was having a Friendsgiving for everyone not going home over this weekend) and caught a flight to Nashville. Daddy came by himself to pick me up at the airport.

“So this Steven guy, he’s flying in tomorrow?”

“If he’s not called in,” I said. “We’ve got the Martha Stewart Thanksgiving planner on track?”

“When wouldn’t we?” He joked. “What’s this Steven’s rank?”

“He’s a Captain,” I said. “I hope you like him.”

“I’ll give him a fair chance, but it’s up to him.”

“Ugh, Daddy!” I cried.

At home, I was ambushed by my nephews and nieces since Leighanne (Harland Jr.’s wife) and Lauren were helping Harland with the pre-Thanksgiving cooking. 

“I forgot what you wooked wike,” Peyton informed me with her drawl. 

“Ouch!” I cried.

“I hate that you’re going to schoo’ so fa’ away!” Peyton whined. 

“Who’s helping Aunt Dani upstairs?” Daddy asked

“Me!” Ruby shouted, bouncing.

“I’m helping, too!”  Shawn shouted. They tried to pull my suitcase up the stairs but Daddy had to help them.

Peyton ran off to play, but I found Matthew in the living room, playing the newest Iron Man video game on the PlayStation. “Hey, buddy,” I said in my brightest tone. “Didn’t you miss your Aunt Dani?”

He looked up at me through his coke-bottle glasses and a grin crossed his face. “I thought you’d forget about me!”

I bent down to hug him as best I could in his wheelchair.

“Never!” I cried. “No way!” 

“Did you bring me a present?”

“Huh? A present? Aren’t I present enough?”

“Okay, just kidding.”

“Matthew,” Lauren chided. “Did you really just ask Dani for a present?”

“Well, I should have thought about it more,” I admitted.

“Don’t you only get one bag from Southwest?” Leighanne asked. Leighanne, my brother Harland Jr.’s wife, looks a lot like Duchess Megan, she’s super beautiful. But when she opens her mouth, her Dothan, Alabama accent comes out. She’s a teacher here in Brentwood, and teaches history at one of the local middle schools. Where I have a drawl, Leighanne’s got a full on accent, and we have to tease her about it.

“Next time,” I promised.

“Matthew, I told you one hour of video games and then you can read or play with Shawn, Ruby, and Peyton,” Lauren said from the doorway. She was still in her scrubs from the hospital. “Dani, come in the kitchen, I want to hear all about this new boyfriend.”

“Aww, Momma, just one more game!” Matthew whined.

“Just let him, the kids are upstairs with Daddy right now,” I said, listening to the drumbeat of footsteps overhead following Daddy’s.

“Alright, just this once,” Lauren said.

In the kitchen, Lauren and Leighanne had some food laid out for cooking, and were chopping vegetables and other things. I got the feeling they were just trying to look busy.

“So how’s the cooking going?” I asked.

“Oh please,” Leighanne said, eyes rolling. “Start chopping and let’s get to the point: you just told us last week the new guy you’re dating is pretty serious.”

“What is this, a middle school slumber party?” I asked, opening the fridge to get an Orangina. “This conversation is not passing the Bechtel test.”

I saw a glance exchanged between Lauren and Leighanne. “You said that you write letters,” Lauren said. “Like actual, snail-mail letters. Did you bring any of them along?”

“No!” I cried. “Did you think I’d let you read them?”

“Well, of course, we’re sisters!”

“Do y’all write dirty things in them?” Leighanne asked, eyebrow arching.

“Why does everything have to revolve around being dirty?” I asked. “No, we mostly just tell each other about interesting and funny things going on in our lives, since we live three hours apart. He doesn’t trust electronic devices. He can actually write words in full sentences.”

“Oh, keeper,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes. She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist, smoothing her hair back. She was the blonde, blue-eyed sister, while I was the dark-haired, green-eyed one. A lot of people believed that we weren’t really related we looked so different, but the moment we spoke, we sounded exactly alike. I took after Momma, Lauren looked more like Daddy’s side. “Somebody teach Russell how to use a pen and paper.”

“He’s different,” I said. “A real gentleman. He’s old-fashioned in a lot of ways.”

“Ewww,” Lauren and Leighanne chorused. 

“Does he let you have friends or does he have to approve them all?” Lauren asked.

“I didn’t say he was a Meninist, okay?” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “Y’all assume a lot.”

“We’re your sisters, of course we do,” Lauren said.

“Now get to work, we’re doing the side dishes while Harland Sr.’s doing the turkey,” Leighanne said, throwing an apron at me.

* * *

After I greeted everyone, and had worked in the kitchen on dinner side dishes, Russell, Lauren’s husband (who could be a real piece of work sometimes) came over, and got Matthew off the Iron Man video game. I went into the living room to say hi to him, when he had turned on BBC Sky News to see what was going on in England.

“How’s work?” I asked. I personally disliked him because he had cheated on Lauren, but they reconciled. I tried to like him and be cordial, but sometimes, he was just so damn unlikeable and narcissistic, it was hard not to be sarcastic.

“Well, we just sold 10,000 units of Graybar to Santa Monica, didn’t I tell you to invest in it?” Russell said. “You really missed out, Dani. You wouldn’t have to be working as a waitress in grad school if you had listened.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “At least I’m  _ in  _ grad school,” I said. “That’s all that matters.”

“Aww, shit,” Russell complained, looking at his phone. “Sokovia’s in civil unrest again? I don’t know how the international division of Stohlman is going to survive overseas if they don’t stop messing up their Parliament. Now, I’ve always thought Parliaments are ineffective methods of government compared to Republics like ours…”

I tuned Russell out while I watched the news ticker. 

_ Civil Unrest in Sokovia- Civil War at hand? _

I almost jumped out of my skin. I ran upstairs, leaving Russell to act like he knew everything already about it, and found my phone. There were a few text messages, one from Steve.

_ Dani, _

_ I know you wanted me at your family’s Thanksgiving, but I’m being mobilized. I can’t say why or where, but you can probably figure it out. I’m so sorry. I’ll be without a phone for a few days, but I’ll contact you when I get back, promise. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Steve _

* * *

 

As much as I tried to enjoy the next twenty-four hours, it broke my heart to admit that Steve had been called into action. This was his first Thanksgiving since he woke up, and he was going to be spending it cold and alone on an Army base or Consulate’s office or something, not with a family and relaxing. The US Consulate’s office in Sokovia was being evacuated of all non-essential personnel according to the news, the same news that I stayed tuned into at all times. Was he staying in the Consulate’s office with the Foreign Service and the Marines stationed there?

I dressed in my best pair of Anne Taylor grey tweed dress slacks from last year and I picked up a black silk blouse, but stopped. I got out a flag pin and pinned it to my bra in some silly idea that it was a good luck charm and Steve wouldn’t get hurt if I wore it. I put on my blouse and then, red lipstick. He loved red lipstick on me. I’d wear whenever he went into battle.

I was distracted at church and when we came home to have dinner, I was distracted as I set the table and accidentally set the table wrong and set a place for where Steve would have sat. Lauren came in behind me and fixed it. “What’s wrong with you?” She whispered.

I shrugged. “He’s not coming..”

“Pull yourself together, girl,” she hissed. “Nanny’s here! You can’t get this upset about a man.”

“I think he’s been mobilized into Sokovia,” I whispered.

There was a suddenly cheer from the living room: most of the family was watching the football games. I looked at Lauren, and she paled. “Oh my God…”

I nodded, swallowing. “He couldn’t tell me where he was going, but the news…”

“There was nothing on the news about it.”

“It was on BBC Sky News,” I said. They rarely devoted much time to international news on American news stations. 

“I’m turning on my Sky News alerts on my phone, okay? I’ll turn them on on yours, too. Captain Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “That’s his name.”

“I’ll put up some alerts on that name. Try to go have fun and watch the game.”

I tried to sit in the living room with the rest of the family while the kids were playing Slap Jack, which was mostly them making a lot of noise by slamming their hands on the table. It made me jump each time. Nanny motioned for me to come sit by her on the couch.

My Nanny, despite her age and aches and pains and broken hip, was bright. I couldn’t hide much from her. “Why don’t you sit down and tell your nanny why you’re so jumpy, Dani-girl?” She said.

“I’m following a news story overseas,” I said.

“They don’t show the news like they oughta,” Nanny agreed. “But you’re home, you’re with me. Talk to me.”

“Nanny, did you date soldiers when you were a girl?”

She shook her head. “Too tricky, even though it was peacetime. I didn’t want to be an officer’s wife and travel all the time. I wanted to stay in Meridan by my family. Why you askin’?”

“I’m dating a soldier.”

“It can’t be that serious, yet?”

“It’s getting there,” I admitted. 

“Then bring him home, I don’t have a lot time left!” she cried, slapping my knee.

“Don’t talk like that!”

“Sooner is better than never,” she reminded me.

The Titans lost, of course, which was predictable, but most of my family wasn’t phased by it. After the game, we sat down to dinner, and each time I felt my phone buzz in my lap, I checked it.

“Aunt Dani, no phones at da table!” Peyton shouted.

“Sorry, Pey-day,” I said.

Nobody else bugged me about it.

What I had put together was Sokovis was so economically depressed, there were riots outside Parliament. The hot-headed Prime Minister had said he’d never listen to a bunch of spoiled brats complain about not getting free stuff, and the protest started getting more and more verbally violent. The demands were being ignored, and the country’s military had been deployed to keep the people from rushing into the building and attacking the elected officials.

The aerial views of the Parliament Square were terrifying: it was filled, standing-room-only with disgruntled citizens, holding signs in a foreign language with a cyrillic-like alphabet, shouting angrily and waving their fists. There were even children there, too. The buildings had been boarded up and shut down so that the protestors didn’t break in if a riot broke out. All I could think was, what if Steve was in that crowd undercover, just in case violence did break out? The politicians had been locked inside the Prime Ministry Hall for three days because all exits were covered by protestors and hit Prime Minister had done nothing but make it worse with his statement condemning them.

I could hardly follow the conversations my family as having, the elephant in the room was the Sokovia government stand off, and nobody talked about it, but I knew they all wanted to.

After dinner, we let Daddy, Harland Jr., and Russell (the only two adults who hadn’t done anything pertaining to the meal) deal with the dirty dishes, while the rest of us relaxed with the kids. Peyton and Ruby wanted to play in my make-up, so I took them upstairs to the bathroom and drew kitty-cat whiskers on their faces with my black eyeliner. I changed into jeans and found my old Fourth of July t-shirt from last summer. Hey, it was red-white-and-blue for Steve, as if my choice of clothing could magically protect him. I reapplied my own lipstick and took the girls downstairs.

“Look at the kitty-cats!” Leighanne cried as we came into the room.

“I thought Halloween was last month,” Harland said. “What are y’all doing?”

“Don’t they look cute?” I asked.

“Come on, sit down,” Leighanne said to me.

I took a seat beside her.

“I’d have let you draw a cat face on me,” Matthew sighed.

“It’s not too late,” I said, and Ruby and Peyton were sitting in a corner, giggling with their American Girl dolls while Nanny finished knitting new sweaters for them. 

“No, it is,” Matthew sighed. “Aunt Dani, is something wrong?”

“I’m just nervous about something,” I said.

“It can’t be that bad,” Matthew said.

“It’s bad, sweetie,” Leighanne said.

“I’m sorry,” Mathew said.

“Thank you, baby,” I replied.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out to see that the Sokovian government had come to an agreement with the terms of the protestors as the sun rose at dawn. The protest was dispersing and Parliament had been opened, the politicians were finally getting to leave. I breathed a sigh of relief, and showed Leighanne.

She squeezed my arm. “I knew it was going to be okay.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This me not wanting to do my homework or study for my upcoming exam... Here's a nice long chapter with some meat in it.

That night, I decided to try to find Pop-pop’s old Captain America memorabilia after a spirited game of Apple to Apples (we played that around Daddy and Harland Sr., we only broke out Cards Against Humanity when it was just Russell, Lauren, Harland Jr. Leighanne, and me). I went through the attic and found the trunk with his initials on it. Inside, I sorted through the piles of loose photos of relatives and places and post cards, until I found a small, old-fashioned photo album. I leafed through it, seeing childhood pictures of my grandfather and his siblings, and then I came across one I had been looking for: a picture of him standing beside by Captain America, both of them saluting the camera, my Pop-pop coming up to his chest.

I recognized Steve immediately, and it gave me the giggles. I got out my phone and took a picture of it, but then realized I wasn’t sure if Steve was home yet to get it. If I sent it to him, would S.H.I.E.L.D. Do something to him for my knowing who he was? I knew they tapped his phone. I sighed, and deleted the picture I had just taken, and pulled the old picture out of the tabs. I sorted through a few other things, and found some Captain America trading cards that were moth-eaten, dog-eared, and faded. There were a few other newspaper clippings of the US War Bond show with Steve holding up a motorcycle in full regalia with three show girls on it, grinning and waving flags, and a group of show girls posed for a kickline. A runty little guy with a frown and a fake Groucho Marx moustache was peeking out from behind the line of girls. There was also a dog-eared Captain America fan club membership card and some cheap junk probably ordered from the back of cereal boxes or something that had theme.

Man, Steve had been a showman in himself. I brought the things downstairs.

“Daddy, can I have these?” I asked, showing him the things from Pop-pop.

“Oh, I forgot about these,” he said lovingly. “You know, baby, I want to keep those safe. Why don’t we make copies of what we can?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll get them on the scanner and we’ve got to get bed. You’ve got a flight out to DC in the morning at five.”

“Alright. See you in the morning.”

Daddy drove me to the airport on Black Friday, and Lauren had packed some turkey sandwiches and a leftover Gladware with sweet potato casserole in it for me to take with me. The interstates were empty, all the traffic was at the malls.

“I hope this Steve guy knows how much you care about him,” he said. “He better treat you like you’re worth it. Because you are.”

“I remember this with you,” I said. “I had faith everything would be alright and you’d come home safe and sound to me. I have to have faith. Steve told me to say a rosary and light a candle for him.”

“Oh really? That makes me feel a whole lot better, he’s a good Catholic. And he’s got faith. I like that.” He yanked a few twenties out of his wallet. 

“Daddy, no!” I cried, pushing the money away. “I don’t need it!”

“Yes, you do. DC is expensive, and I hate that you’re working so hard. If you haven't gotten a gray hair yet, you will soon, I’m sure. Especially with a boyfriend being mobilized without any warning. Take it. And don’t tell your mother.” He kissed me on the cheek and crammed the money into my reluctant fingers.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too. Travel safely. And pet hateful old Lordy for me.”

“You’re just not good with cats.”

“Break a leg with your finals, sweet pea.”

“I will.”

He let me out at the Southwest gate and kissed me goodbye. 

My father always cared about me and how safe I was. It was funny: sometimes I felt like Lauren had married a male version of mom, and Steve was turning out more like Daddy. Of course, there had been Chad.

They say you marry your parents…

Steve had not contacted me, but I had faith he was still traveling back Stateside. 

After I got back home and took Lourdes Marie back to my apartment, I tried to get some homework done before work.

The next two days, I had work and more work from school. On Monday, I had an evening class and work. Steve had sent me a message that he was safe and out of harm’s way, but not home yet over the weekend.

I finished my final presentation and turned in my final research paper and did our group project presentation. I felt a sense of relief that it was all over now: I was done with my first semester, and if I failed, it was finished.

My phone rang as I stepped out of the life sciences building, and it was Steve’s number.

“Dani?” I recognized Steve’s voice.

“Steve!” I cried. “It’s so good to hear from you! You’re home finally?”

“Not quite. But I am Stateside. How’d your exams go?”

“I felt like I did well, but I might have failed. If I did, I guess I can always go back to call centers and teaching baton.”

“Come to New York. We can see each other more. What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m probably going to go home and have a Lean Cuisine and a glass of wine with my cat and watch  _ Road to Morocco _ . A generic brand Lean Cuisine, too, I’ve got to make sure everybody has Christmas presents. What are you doing?”

“Right now? Standing across the street, waiting for you to notice me.”

“Huh?” I glanced up, looking around across the street. My eye easily fell on Steve’s tall, broad-shouldered frame, easy to pick out, even dressed in khakis and a dark parka.

“Steve!” I shouted, grinning. He waved at me, and I ran across the street, jaywalking, to jump into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his middle, and he held me by my butt and we kissed, like something out of an old Hollywood movie. “You’ve been so cryptic!”

“I didn’t want to distract you from finals,” he said, and I let go of him with my legs. He set me down. 

“If you had come down from New York, you  _ definitely _ would have been a distraction,” I agreed, taking his hand. 

“So you’re finished for the semester?”

“Yes! I’ve gotten a few extra shifts at the diner to make up for missing a few days over Thanksgiving and Christmas, though. I’m working tomorrow.”

“Let’s celebrate. What do you want to do?”

“Can we go get some drinks?”

“I’m in the mood for beer.”

“I know a great Biergarten not far from here,” I said. “We can walk there!”

Steve and I made our way to Sauf Haus Biergarten and went to the second level to get their liter-size beers. I loved their wheat beers, they reminded me of Hefeweizen and we found some seats at the window bar. It was packed: a lot of people were celebrating the end of finals week at GWU and American U and Georgetown. “Can you tell me where you were mobilized to?” I asked. “Sokovia?”

“I can’t say,” he admitted. “But it was Clint, Natasha, and me.”

“Clint… he’s?”

“Hawkeye, the archer. I’ve never seen anybody with an aim like his.”

“Where was Tony?”

“He was busy schmoozing the politicians that hadn’t been trapped inside, he did his part.”

“Where was the big guy? And Thor?”

“Thor kind of floats around different dimensions, if you catch my drift. He’s in and out of this one. The big green guy, the Hulk? His alter ego is a very mild-mannered humanitarian and medical doctor, he’s usually off in Southeast Asia with W.H.O.”

“Then how does he transform into the Hulk?”

“He lets his anger out.”

“Whoa.”

‘Well, I had an eventful Thanksgiving. The Foreign Service Officers in the Consulate’s office and the Marines made us come to Thanksgiving Dinner with them, even though we had the news on the whole night.” 

“I couldn’t eat Thanksgiving dinner or even concentrate with you in Sokovia. I was scared you were undercercover in the crowd in case things went south.”

“I never confirmed I was in Sokovia,” he said, smirking. “But no, we were close by, but not inside.”

“I knew you were there.”

He shrugged, good naturedly. I knew this was going to be the course of our relationship when his work took him away.

I got tipsy off the liter of beer I had, Steve had a second one and said he could feel a little buzzed by it. By the time we left the Bier Garten, we stopped at the train station to pick up his duffel bag and the circular black foam case (probably that vibranium shield) from a locker and went to pick up some burgers since he was starving and took the Metro home. At home, I left him take the first shower while I picked up a little and cleaned out Lourdes Marie’s litter box. Lourdes Marie was hiding under the bed like Steve was someone to be afraid of. To be honest, she did the same thing at Alissa and Joel’s. I booted up my computer and pulled up the Turner Classic Movies app.

“I didn’t realize they had the technology to shut off your shower like that,” Steve complained, coming out of the bathroom, his hair damp and tousled, wearing a pair of grey flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He looked good enough to eat, and I realized tonight could very well be the night with him. I needed to shave and lotion up so he didn’t brush my calf and wonder if I had sandpaper pajama pants on. “That was very inconvenient.”

“Yeah, my landlords are cheap,” I agreed, gathering my pajamas and a fresh towel. “It’s a pain in the ass when you’re a girl. It’s not like DC isn’t a cleared swamp area and we don’t  have plenty of water.” 

“I think we need to get you a better apartment. I can tell you’re freezing in here, does the heat even work?”

“Have you seen the rent prices in this area?” I asked. “I’ll be out in a few minutes, choose a movie.”

“Make it fast,” Steve said, and I felt a towel snap on my butt and squealed. “Gotcha.”

In my tiny shower stall, I did the basic scrub down before I got out. I shaved my legs, one foot up on the sink at a time, almost falling over, and applied my Bath and Body Works Japanese Cherry Blossom lotion all over, then scrubbed each foot with a pumice stone.

I didn’t want to make it obvious that I was ready to have sex tonight. I wanted him to believe I was just this soft and pretty and perfumed naturally, all the time and was willing. I didn’t want to start off our sexual relationship looking and feeling gross. I put on a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top without a bra, hoping he’d appreciate that I didn’t have on a bra for him to fumble with the hooks.

In the main room of the apartment, Steve was sitting on the bed with the movie  _ Casablanca _ queued up to play. “I thought you fell in there,” he said.

“Ha ha,” I replied, throwing the sham pillows off my side of the bed. I pulled the other one out from under him, and tossing them on the floor. I climbed under the covers. “I see you picked out a great movie.”

“Man, this movie… it’s the best. I saw it when it first came out. I honestly thought Elsa should have stayed with Rick at the end, though.”

“Me too,” I agreed. 

“Just letting you know, if I sleep over here tonight, I only need about four hours of sleep at the most. If I lay in bed too long, I get antsy and nervous.”

“You run on only four hours of sleep?” I asked, stunned.

“Yeah. I don’t need a lot to get by.”

“I wish I could have that amount of time back in my day and still function!” I cried, turning out the light as he leaned forward and turned on the movie. At one point, Lourdes Marie came out from under the bed and jumped up to do a meatloaf kitty pose and cat nap. We watched most of it while Steve lay atop the comforter. “Aren’t you getting under the covers?” I asked him as Rick saw Elsa off for the final time.

“Are you okay with that?”

“What?”

“I mean… things can happen.”

“Of course,” I scoffed. “Why do you think I asked you to?”

“I thought… I thought uh… your virtue and-“

“I’m not a virgin,” I replied.

“You… you’re not?” I could hear his mental screams inside his head. “I thought you were. You’re a nice girl and Catholic and-“

“Well, I lost my virginity to my last boyfriend. I thought maybe you’d want to have sex tonight, finally. We  _ have _ been dating for almost two months.”

A strangled cry erupted from his lips and he got up from the bed. “But-“

“We don’t owe anybody an explanation of what we’re doing,” I pointed out. “It’s our business. I’ve got condoms in the nightstand.” 

Steve was panicking, he started pacing.

Why was he so anxious? 

And then, it hit me as I put together his past and his timeline and the stories of him being a sickly wimp before Dr. Erskine’s experiment.

“Steve, are you a virgin?” I asked.

“What? Come on, Dani,” he spluttered.  We was pacing so hard, I thought he’d wear a hole in the floor. “Why would you think that? I’m a soldier, I spent years in Europe, why would you say-“

“You are,” I said, calmly, his behavior making perfect sense.

“I didn’t say that!” he shouted.

“You’re deflecting. You deflect when you don’t want to tell me the truth so you don’t lie.”

I thought Steve was going to jump through the ceiling.

“Did you think I couldn’t handle that?” I asked.

“I’m less of a man,” he groaned, rubbing his eye sockets with the heels of his palms.

“Says who?”

“I didn’t say… It’s socially unacceptable for a guy to be a virgin after a certain age.”

“Only vile pieces of human garbage say that,” I said, kicking off the covers. “Like my ex.” 

“It’s embarrassing,” he said.

I hugged my arms around his middle. “It’s endearing,” I said. “And this is you. The truth about who you are. Have you ever been in love before?”

“I… no. I haven’t.”

“So… you respect women enough to want to have a relationship before having sex. I wish more guys were like that and cared how women felt. I should have been so lucky my first time,” I said softly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Be proud of it.”

“I’m going to need a little more-  _ a lot more _ to drink before we-“

“No rush,” I said. I couldn’t believe  _ I  _ was the one calming  _ him _ down. “Come on, get in bed with me. I’m exhausted. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.” I took his hand and brought him to the bed. I could feel his rigidity in his whole body just from his hand. I pulled the covers over him and went around to my side of the bed to get in.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay.”

It was like was talking himself into something.

“Let’s do it tonight, I can do this-“

“Steve, no!” I cried. “You are too worked up-”

“I thought you wanted to-“

“You’re treating this like it’s some kind of test you have to pass. It’s not a test!”

“I’m ready to get this over with!” He threw back the covers.

I shoved him back on the bed. Natasha had warned me about Steve’s black-and-white thinking. “If it’s a test, I’m going to fail, too. I’m not that experienced, either.”

“We need to-”

“You want to rush through this? Not enjoy it? How many times do I have to tell you I care about you? First times should be special and a fun experience.”

“Was it for you?”

He was so upset, I didn’t want to tell him, but then again, he was behaving as if we didn’t do this right this very second, his whole world was over. He needed me to be vulnerable and honest, he was in crisis mode in his own head. I had to rip open a very private, personal wound of my own. “No, actually. It was awful. And I blamed myself, but when I thought about it, I realized, I was doing what you’re doing right now: trying to fake intimacy to make myself feel better. Sex is just an act, a process. What really counts is being close and trusting each other. I didn’t trust him, not as much as I should have. And he didn’t care about me, not as much as I needed.”

Steve was visibly upset, even more so with my words. “Do you care about me?” he asked, his voice softer.

“Of course. I care about you a lot.”

“I care about you a lot, too.”

“I think you’re just in the wrong headspace right now.”

His expression went angry. “I am not!”

“Sex for you right now is you, me, and what the rest of the world thinks of you. I don’t want that, I’ve got a pink in the nightstand and I’d be happy alone the rest of my life, you can find somebody else help you impress the world, alright, Steve? You don’t have to impress me, I just want you… I want the superhero who jumps in front of a bullet with nothing but a vibranium shield  _ and _ the ninety-pound nerd with asthma who couldn’t get into the Army. I don’t need the whole goddamn world knowing the private, intimate moments between us or even caring what they’d think. I spent a lot of time afraid of what people thought of me and if I measured up. I realized measuring up to what everybody else in the world who couldn’t give two flips about me wants is the best way to make yourself miserable and a terrible person to be around. If they matter so much to you, more than someone like me who actually  _ does _ care about you, I don’t know that I want to be with you, okay?” I punched the pillow and collapse on the bed.

Steve took what I had to say a lot harder than I intended, just by the look on his face. He was quiet for the longest time. “I’m pretty sure I’m officially the oldest virgin on earth,” he muttered.

“Oh my God, do you really think I’m going to hold it over your head? Make fun of you? Hurt you for sharing something so personal with me? What kind of girlfriend would do that?” I took his hand, lacing my fingers between his. “We’re partners. You better know I’m your friend first. Friends don’t hurt friends and reveal personal, dark secrets to the rest of the world to one-up the other. That’s the definition of a shitty friend. I’m not a shitty friend. I certainly don’t want to be. Or girlfriend. Okay?”

“What if I’m no good? What if I’m a complete waste of your time?”

“No good? At sex?” I clarified. He nodded. “I’m not good at it, either. Just because I’ve done it doesn’t make me good at it. We can just be bad at it together and not care what everybody else thinks. And your letters alone are the best use of my time. As long as you write those, our time together doing anything isn’t a waste. I promise.”

“I love your letters, too. And every moment I spend with you. But please… can you not curse in front me?”

“What?”

“I don’t like cursing. It reminds me of my mother’s boyfriends and… I don’t like it.”

“Okay. I’ll work on it.”

* * *

Steve was so upset as I tried to get to sleep. He kept on wanting to talk about it. It really did bug him that he wasn’t unable to be the dominant sexual player between the two of us, for lack of sexual experience. I didn’t care: he had been a science experiment and had woken up with a perfect, strong, healthy body for the first time in his life, but the experiment didn’t cure  _ all _ his problems. When he had been underweight and physically weak, he had woken up with a perfect, strong, healthy body, but he was still insecure about it. That wasn’t abnormal. He had never let me see him with his shirt off, as much as I salivated over his body. It reminded me of the years I had spent in a therapist’s office at UT between marching seasons, ashamed and hyper-sensitive and hyper-aware of my body. My problems with my body were just a front for the emotional problems I dealt with. I still dealt with them, the insecurities, the stupid belief that if I were thin enough, all my problems would melt away. But they didn’t. My first instincts after the whole thing on the Empire State Building observation deck had been to go on a diet and workout more, the basic methods I had used to deal with any problem, when the way my body had nothing to do with any of my problems. I personally thought Steve’s bravery and zeal for the cause in World War II that had pushed him along without any care of if he lived or died had to do with problems like his abandonment. He had no friends asides from Bucky who had joined up and gone overseas to fight, his parents both died, he was living a difficult existence with no real hope in sight until he was accepted into the military. Was he trying to find meaning for his existence in self-sacrifice when he tried to join the Army six times?

I tried to kiss and nibble on his hands, his shoulders, his fingers, his neck, but he just wasn’t in the mood, he only want to talk. I rolled over on my side, my back away from him and he finally figured out I was trying to sleep. He finally curled up behind me.

I took his hand in mine and let him spoon me until I dozed off.

In the middle of the night, I woke up sweating. I realized Steve was still spooning me and that was the source of the heat. “Steve, get off,” I grumbled, trying to roll over. 

“Huh?” he huffed.

“Steve, I’m burning up, it’s like spooning in a sauna!” I whined. “Get off me!” 

“Oh, excuse me,” he muttered, annoyed. “You’re the one that talks in your sleep.”

“Liar,” I mumbled, but I knew from what Lauren had told me that I did, in fact, have a tendency to mumble unintelligible things when I dozed off under stress.

I heard him chortle. “You were speaking in tongues.”

I groaned and flipped my pillow over onto the cool side. “I do not.” The lure of sleep seduced me, and I started to feel dreamland sneaking up on my again. I felt the mattress shift a few times. Steve was tossing and turning. I checked the alarm clock: it was almost four a.m. He had had enough sleep, but I was still groggy. “Are you awake?” I muttered.

“Yeah. I’m going to get up.”

“Don’t go sit in the chairs, they’re noisy as hell,” I said, thinking of the creaking.

“Language, young lady.”

“Fine. They’re noisy.”

He got up and shuffled through his duffel bag and I heard him sit down on the floor and a reading lamp light came on. I dozed off, but woke up again.

“Steve?” I asked.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Come back to bed,” I whispered.

“Am I keeping you awake? Is it the light?”

“No, I just want you here next to me,” I said.

He got up from the floor and the light switched off. I felt him climb back into my queen sized bed. There wasn’t a ton of room for both of us.

“Why are you so warm? Was it the experiment you went through in the Army?” I asked.

“Yeah. My metabolism is super-high now. I can’t get drunk, either.”

“You know you can tell me anything,” I said, my eyes closed. “What was it?”

“I’m not really sure, I don’t know that anybody is,” he said. “Dr. Erskine was a genius. He devised the treatment that changed my body into this.”

I reached behind myself to touch him. “I’m not gonna lie, I thought you had an incredible body the first time I saw you.”

“I couldn’t stop looking at you that night, either,” he said. I felt him move on the mattress, and he kissed my shoulder. “Do you know how many times since we’re been dating I thought you’d laugh in my face and dump me if you found out I was still a virgin? At my age?”

“You know, I was twenty-three before I lost my virginity,” I said, trying to level with him. “I was too embarrassed about what my body look like.”

“What? Why?” he asked, sounding offended.

“Body dysmorphic disorder does weird things to the way you see yourself in the mirror,” I said. It was only the tip of the iceburg, he didn’t need to hear it all right now. “It’s part of the reason I went into therapy when I was in undergrad. I hated the way I looked, but I loved baton. I almost quit baton twirling my freshman year because being in the uniform made me so self-conscious and miserable. I look back at myself and I know I was so annoying because I was so insecure.”

“You want to know a secret? I feel that way, too, sometimes. I can’t explain why...”

I didn’t want to overload him with all I knew. And it was a huge effort me to talk about what I had discovered about myself in a therapist’s office. “It makes sense to me,” I said, softly. “What was it like?” I asked. “The procedure?”   
“That Dr. Erskine put me though? You want to hear about it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” I sighed. “I’m listening.”

“Well… okay. He gave me multiple opportunities to back out. I didn’t. I was falling behind in basic because of my asthma and all my medical problems like my blood pressure, my muscle weakness, all the times I passed out during calisthenics. I honestly thought if it killed me, maybe he’d be able to improve it and use it on other people the right way and help them. So, I let them close me up in what was like a metal coffin with all these Army people watching me in a medical lab, all shirtless and bony. And then the lights came on inside it. It was just a slight tingle at first, but then it went through my whole body and got really… intense.”

“What did it feel like?”

“Like needles and knives being dragged through my veins and muscles, millions of ‘em, and it was excruciating. I remember screaming in pain, but Dr. Erskine asked me if I wanted to stop, I said no. Then, it felt like my spine and my body, my mouth even, was being ripped apart. That was worse. I couldn’t breathe and I think I passed out. I woke up when the lights inside the coffin went off, and I realized it was opening up. I looked down and I saw…. Muscles. Not skin and bones, it was like my brain had been transported into another person’s body. And then the table moved from horizontal to vertical and I was on my feet again, and my army trousers were about six inches too short on me, my feet had split out of my shoes. Peggy was part of that mission, and she ran up to me along with the other Army medical specialists and officers and Dr. Erskine. And I realized I was looking down on her, whereas before, I had been looking up. I could see the top of her head, and I could see her clearly, and every inch of me felt incredible, like I was floating. I realize now it was an oxygen high because I had never really breathed clearly before in my entire life. My brain was clear too, clearer than it had ever been. Afterwards, I discovered I had regrown teeth that I had had pulled and I didn’t need my inhaler or any of the other medical prescriptions. Looking in the mirror the first time, I just stared at myself. It was my face and hair on someone else’s body. It took me a few months to get used to the man in the mirror.”

“Did you have the body you always wanted?” I asked drowsily.

“Yeah, I guess. I always wanted to be free of all the pain and asthma and constant colds and blood pressure problems. It wasn’t about vanity for me. I had come to terms with that I’d never be the fellow in uniform that all the girls fell all over, and then Dr. Erskine came along. I still feel uncomfortable in my own skin. It’s just a different set of skin, now. At first I thought I would, but I guess it’s just tough all over. I still feel like a freak, just on the other end of the spectrum. I don’t like people staring at me all the time, even though I’m not an easy target any longer. They just stare for a different reason. And I dreamed about beautiful dames falling all over me in my Army uniform. Hey, who doesn’t dream about being better looking? I guess I am. But I never anticipated it would be drunk ones coming up to me in bars, touching me, saying disgusting, crude things. I get that more often than not, now.”

“Like you’re an object?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you were in the gay bar the night we met, right?”

“Right. I needed to get away from all that. And I was been working on talking to girls, and had blown it more times than I wanna admit...” he chuckled.

“Trust me, most women know what that’s like to be objectified and groped at least once in their life. I’ll snatch ‘em bald if I catch ‘em doing that when we’re out,” I promised. “I’ve been through it, too, you know. Several times. It blows. I guess we all have our insecurities. I had a really bad eating disorder. I don’t know if I told you that.”

“That’s…? Body something you said a moment ago?”

“Body dysmorphic disorder. It ties in really heavily with eating disorders, where your body basically looks like it’s in a funhouse mirror, all distorted an huge. And it scares you when you look at it. Most people with eating disorders have it. For me, my eating disorder was when you throw up after eating.”

“Then I had one, too. I couldn’t hold food down sometimes if I ate too fast. Before the experiment.”

“No, it wasn’t involuntary. I’d make myself throw up intentionally because I was afraid of the calories I had eaten making me fat. It’s really dangerous. And it’s considered a disease.”

“Why would you do that? Did somebody tell you that you weren’t pretty? I’ll- I’ll find him and make him apologize-”

“No, it wasn’t a guy,” I said. 

“Who, then?”

“It was my mom.”

A heavy silence hung between him and me. I realized that it had never occured to Steve that a mother could be a bad person or a bad parent. He described his mother as a perfect angel who died too young. I felt an urge to explain at his speechlessness, but as I opened my mouth, he spoke. “You’re perfect, Dani. Don’t believe anybody who says that to you. Even your mother.”

“I drive her insane,” I said. “Mainly because I can’t  _ fix _ her, but she wants me to.”

“Fix her? How?”

“She’s lonely. She looks to Lauren and me and her husbands to fix her problems and nurture her, when it’s supposed to be the other way around. She’s doesn’t respect boundaries or privacy, especially mine and Lauren’s. She thinks she’s entitled to it because she’s our mother. Trust me, she’s going to start asking if you and I are having sex.”

“You won’t tell her-”

“I’m not telling her damn-  _ a dog gone thing _ , alright?” I asked. “It’s none of her business. She can’t apologize when she’s wrong, either. I think it’s all these problems with Mom have messed Lauren up, too. She’s married to a horrible guy who cheated on her. And where I was the bulimic and dabbled in periods of self-starvation, Lauren, she’s… She’s heavier than me, but still more beautiful than I will ever be.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Well, don’t you ever tell her she’s anything less than beautiful. I love her so much. She raised me when Daddy was deployed or in the field and Momma was going off the rails. And she is so amazing. But, she’s got insulin resistance from her PCOS, too. Momma was awful with all the body shaming and diets she put both of us on, but Lauren got it worse. Lauren and I are both bulimics, I figured it out from her, even though she never taught me. I think she still believes Russell is the best thing she’s ever going to get, and she doesn’t want the kids not having a father figure, especially since Matthew has cerebral palsy. His CP is medically so expensive to treat, I think money is another reason: women are more likely to go into poverty after a divorce.”

“That’s depressing. And still true, it was that way in the 30s and 40s. But isn’t it better, now? Alimony and child support and people can divorce because they want it, not because they cheated? She has more options.”

“I don’t know, in some ways, it’s better. But I look at myself and my ex, and I think, ‘hey, I could have gone down that route.’ But my ex was really messed up, and messed me up, too.”

“Well, you are in a relationship with the world’s oldest virgin.”

“And this is the best relationship I’ve ever had, bar-none. So don’t you go bad-mouthing your virginity any more.”

“I spent so much time freaking out about that and you… It’s weird that I can trust you with so much. I’m still… I don’t know..”

“Adjusting? Decompressing?”

“Yeah… So, that eating thing… Is all that why you want to be a psychologist?”

“Yeah. That and the PTSD Daddy went through that a psychologist helped him with. He got better because of a good therapist. And he realized there was no saving his marriage when he and Momma went to marriage counseling.”

“He told you that?”

“No, I pieced it together. Momma told me he had basically old her point-blank in the therapist’s office that he wanted a divorce, and she said it was because of his PTSD. But he had gotten better, hadn’t had an episode in almost a year when that happened.”

“I’ve heard about PTSD. I wonder sometimes if I got it.”

“Do you have moments when you see scenes from the war that feel like they’re beyond your control? You can’t stop them?”

“Not from the war, no. Except one. When Bucky died. But I get them more when I remember stuff like…”

“Like what?”

He sighed and looked away. “I think about how humiliating it was when I got beat up by mother’s boyfriends. When my mother was crying and watching it. I like to think my father would have been the best dad, if he hadn’t died. She wouldn’t have had to start dating those men to get me fed and pay my medical bills. I doubt Mom and I would have ended up homeless those few times, too. I wonder what kind of person I’d be if he had been there. If I’d have had siblings.”

I reached over and stroked his blond hair. It was soft and silky and thick under my fingers. “But I don’t think you’d be here, with me. You wouldn’t be Captain America that Dr. Erskine chose, the Star-Spangled Man who raised all that money in war bonds, and you wouldn’t have saved all your fellow soldiers behind enemy lines and you wouldn’t have inspired Americans everywhere. Who knows, we might all be talking German now if not for you.”

“I didn’t win the war,” he scoffed. “The soldiers did. I never got to punch out Adolph Hitler.”

“But you were there,” I sighed. “Wait a second, I brought something back from Nashville.” I got out the bed and ran to my chest of drawers to find the box I had put the memorabilia in. I brought it over to the bed. “Look. It’s you!”

He sat up and turned on the lamp. He opened the box, revealing the pictures and newspaper clippings and the Captain America related junk. “That’s my grandfather you’re standing by in the picture. He looked up to you so much. He wanted to be you.”

A saw a smile crossed his face as he took in the picture.

“Do you remember him? It was in 1943 at the Sulpher Downs Stadium in Nashville.”

“No,” he said.  “Sorry. Not in the slightest.  Do you know how many babies and children I took pictures with? Thousands, probably.”

“You know there’s a rumor going around that there were two separate Captain Americas, one in the USO show, another one in the field?”

“Eh, that’s malarkey,” he said. “They knew it was me. Who’s saying that?”

“Somebody on the internet,” I said as he slipped the Captain America decoder ring onto his pinky finger, which didn’t even go past his second knuckle. 

“Yeah, tell him to use this to decode a message from me, the knucklehead,” he chortled, wiggling his pinky.

I took his finger and kissed it. He was gentle with me, cupping my face. I turned my chin to kiss his palm and he let go just long enough to set the box on the nightstand, and slid an arm around me. I laid down on top of him and another hand slid up the back of my neck to tangle in my hair. His lips met mine, and I laid down on top of him. Our lips met, and I melted into him, our bodies only separated by our nightclothes. Every part of my body tingled at his touch, my nipples becoming erect and arousal growing between my thighs. I kissed him harder, my tongue slipping past his lips, and brushing his teeth. His kissed me back, and we rolled over so that I was underneath him. He was heavy, but I liked how heavy he was atop me. It made me hotter, his hand under my head, the softest and most beautiful kiss I had ever had in my life. My hands roamed his back, drifting down to the hem of his shirt, drawing it up to feeling the warm, smooth skin.

I wanted to whisper soft things between the kisses, that I loved him. The endorphins and excitement were fueling that, I knew better. I gasped in air, and yearned to draw him inside my body, to cradle him, to grind my hips on his, to feel his cock moving inside me, his cum to enter me.

Yeah, I was horny. I wanted him so badly, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready for it. I had always been told men would never turn down sex, but it wasn’t true, no matter how badly I wanted to believe it. I couldn’t take something from him if he wasn’t emotionally ready. Hell, I didn’t want to emotionally scar him for life with a selfish first time. One of his hands let go of my head and slipped to my waist, my skin tingling at his touch, but he paused, out of breath and shaking. 

“It’s okay, Steve,” I whispered at his hesitance. “You can touch me. I’ll tell you if it’s wrong.”

He closed his eyes and his hand slid up to my bare rib cage and his lips parted in hard pants. I could feel the bulge of his cock through his pajama pants against my thigh, I wondered briefly if it was getting hard. I had touched myself to the thought of him, what I’d do, what the sex would be like. It wasn’t this easy. I ran my hands up under his t-shirt and pressed kisses across his jaw and to his ear. “It’s alright,” I whispered into his ear before kissing his pulse point on his neck. “It’s alright,” I chanted and moved my legs for his hips to fall between. His hand brushed the underside of my breast and I heard him almost sob.

“You’re okay?” I asked.

He lifted his head and looked at me. “I… are you?”

The alarm suddenly shrieked, making us both jump. It was 4:30 AM. I had to get ready for work.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m alright. My shift starts in an hour.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay. I think I need another shower. Do you mind?”

I shook my head. “Go ahead.”

* * *

I was pretty sure if Steve got worked up, he probably took care of it in the shower. I myself got out my bullet and took care of things myself. 

I was going to be ready for the next time Steve and I were alone together. I made plans in my head about getting ready for him and taking precautions. The attitudes about birth control, condoms, and sex in general had changed a lot since the second World War. Steve was anxious about talking about sex and virginity, he’d be nervous about the “how are we going to do this, what birth control are we using, what positions are my hard limits, what are yours?” kind of talk couples who planned this out had these days before their first times together. Of course, I had skipped that with Chad. I wasn’t going to skip it with Steve. I had the feeling Steve would have to be the pillow princess the first time and let me do all the work. I know that sounded funny, but I wanted to ease him into sex in a way that wasn’t traumatic or bad for him. Toxic masculinity was a bitch and Steve was suffering from it (as was I).

I washed my hands in the kitchen sink and made some oatmeal.

The bathroom door opened, and steam poured out.

“I’m just making breakfast for myself, I’m feeding you at the diner. Much bigger kitchen and a better selection,” I said. 

“I could go for a big breakfast,” he said.

I made my breakfast and some coffee in the French Press, and watched from the bed as Steve shaved. He used a straight razor like the old fashioned ones hipsters had started using again. “Do you want to come to Nashville for Christmas?” I asked, taking a bite of oatmeal with some blueberry in it.

“Oh, Dani, I… I already volunteered to be on call.”

“When?” I asked, disappointed.

“Before I met you.”

“Oh,” I repeated, my stomach turning. Despite it, I shoveled the oatmeal in: I needed food on my stomach or I’d get tired and cranky and weak by eight.

“I’ll come back to see you before then,” he offered. “We can work it out.”

I got out my phone to look at my schedule. “I took a bunch of extra shifts, I don’t have any days off in a row, except at Christmas,” I sighed.

He scraped the side of his face carefully, most of the shaving foam gone. He ran the washcloth under the hot water from the faucet. “Our contact at the UN says that world events end to heat up historically in the winter… I can’t promise anything. But I’ll buy a plane ticket to Nashville for Christmas.”

I glowed, watching him wipe the last of the shaving foam off his face, getting up to watch him from the door frame. 

“What?” he asked, seeing my expression.

“You’re just sexy, that’s all,” I said as he got out his aftershave. I reached for my toothbrush.

After I fed Lourdes Marie and we gathered our things for the day. The sun wasn’t even up in DC as we made our way to the Metro stop in the early morning cold. “You’re ready for me to meet your family?” he asked.

“I think you can handle it,” I said. “You’ll like my father and Harland, and Harland Jr and Lauren. Do you like kids?”

“A lot. Do you want some one day?”

“Let me see how you handle my niece and nephews.”

“Are they wild or something?”

“They’re busy,” I said. “Cute. Funny. They have my heart.”

I sent my father a text that Steve was planning on coming for Christmas if he didn’t get mobilized. “Do you want to get a hotel room that we can stay in together over Christmas?” I asked.

“Shhh!” Steve hissed, horrified. “Why don’t we talk about this in private, not in public?”

“Nobody cares,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“It’s not something you talk about in public,” he whispered, his face going crimson.

That was the 1940s coming out in him. With him, nobody could know if we were having sex, but nobody on this train cared what we were talking about in reality.

“I’ll make plans,” he whispered to me.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to do it. #VirginSteve is my favorite. When I saw Captain America: the First Avenger, I knew he was a virgin the moment he accused Howard Stark and Peggy Carter of "fondue" after telling Peggy no girl would dance with him, let alone date him. LOL, fondue. And it made me like him even more that he was a virgin. And I think virgin guys need more representation and to not be laughed at or made fun of. They aren't losers and shouldn't be treated like such, but they are. That's unfair and I wish society didn't try to shame virgin men like that.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody who has read my story! I'm excited to see you all reading. Thank you to the guest who left a kudo for me, too! Sorry this chapter is a little more Dani-heavy, not a lot of Captain America. I promise a little more Steve in the next chapter, though. All I can do is imagine what it's like to date a superhero, and that's what I wrote. I might update another chaper midweek, too. I'm entering a really intense period of time in semester for the next two weeks, but if you leave a comment, I promise to reply, even if you flame me.
> 
> XO,  
> Blue

I sent Steve off to New York at the train station with aching feet from work and a heavy heart after my morning shift.

The pervert in me wanted nothing more than to deflower him as soon as possible, but I understood about waiting. Rushed sex that he wasn’t ready for would inevitably end in horrible sex, and I had had enough of that to last a lifetime in Chad’s bed.

Daddy responded to me that he wanted to meet Steve and would be happy to have him for Christmas, promising an email as I got home that night while I drafted a letter to Steve that bordered on being erotic. I had always enjoyed writing, but had never taken it far.

The next day after my double, I was eager to get home and check my mailbox for a letter from Steve, but I saw a missed call on my phone.

From Mom.

I couldn’t tell you why I kept talking to her. She might have been in a good mood today. A girl didn’t want to give up her mother.

I dialed her back. The phone rang three times before Momma answered the phone bitching out her husband Todd for a full fifteen seconds about something before actually saying, “Hello?”

“Hi, Momma, just calling you back,” I said.

“Oh, her highness deigned to call me back.”

“Like I do everytime we talk,” I grumbled. I had gotten the bad mother today. “I work, Momma. I had bills to pay. I can’t bring my phone into the dining room.”

“I will never understand why you gave up that nice job at the call center to work as a waitress and go to school to be a psychologist, like you’ll make any more money that way. You won’t! I can’t understand-”

“Momma, did you call me to complain, or was there a reason?”

“I heard… from a little birdie… that you were bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas.”

I groaned internally. I’m sure Lauren let it slip. “Yes, it’s true.”

“And you’re bringing him down to Atlanta to meet me?”

“I only have two days off,” I said.

“I’m coming to Nashville, then,” she announced.

I grimaced. She wanted to meet Steve. Steve already knew how crazy she was.

‘It’s Christmas,” I sighed. “Shouldn’t you be at home with Todd?”

“I should be surrounded by my _daughters_ . And my _grandchildren_. Hopefully, this new boyfriend of yours is father material and can provide for you well.”

I rolled my eyes to the heavens. “Mom, I want you to behave around him.”

“Why do I get asked to ‘behave’ as if I were a child? You treat me like last week’s garbage! You never call me! And you don’t want to bring your boyfriend home for Christmas, do you?”

I had to put up with a half hour more of Momma’s bitching before she decided to hang up. 

There was a knock on my door, and I answered.

It was one of my neighbors, another college students. “Hey, this was in my mailbox,” he said, holding up a letter addressed to me in Steve’s handwriting.

I grinned. “Thank you!”

* * *

Steve wrote me of the locations he wanted to take me to.

“ _I want nothing more than to be alone with you, to touch you and explore your skin, to take in the sight of you, bare, with my mouth alone. Your fingers grazing my bare skin, making me shiver._ ”

I had no idea he was such a talented writer. He didn’t use dirty language or euphemisms, but the paragraph he wrote me made me hot just reading it.

He closed with his favorite Robert Frost poem, _Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening_.

 _“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,_  
_But I have promises to keep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep,_ _  
_ And miles to go before I sleep.”

He was erotic, even though he hadn’t experienced love. But I realized another woman might not have understood, reading this. I closed my eyes, pressing the letter to my chest. His first experience had to be perfect, I decided.

* * *

You’ve never met an average American graduate student in counseling that was so concerned with the international news. I had the alerts set up on my phone so I knew what was going on.

Like Steve predicted, things with the Syrian War were on-going, but were his utmost concern.

“I’m making reservations at the Home2 in Brentwood, Tennessee for two nights, starting on Christmas Eve,” Steve said. “But I haven’t confirmed them.”

I swallowed, sitting outback in the alley behind the diner with a cup of Diet Coke with the phone to my ear.

“Confirm them for good luck,” I said.

“I don’t know if I should,” he said. “I’m sorry, Dani. The Syrian situation is getting worse.”

“Are you going to be mobilized?” I whispered, although there was no one there to hear me.

“I can’t say, yet.”

There was a long pause.

“I’m not doing this to upset you, Dani. These are consequences above my control.”

“I don’t like you being mobilized into a warzone,” I whispered.

There was a knock on the door over my head.

“Dani?” the kitchen manager asked over my head. “Your break is up.”

“My break’s over,” I said. “I’ve got to go. But I’m not mad that you might not come to Nashville, I’m just scared you won’t come back.”

“I survived a world war, a super soldier experiment, and cryogenesis, it’ll take a lot more than that to kill me.”

A sob escaped my lips at him trying to be funny to stop me from being scared. It didn’t make me feel any better.

“I’m not trying to upset you. Call me when you get home.”

I sniffed. “Okay.”

After wiping my eyes and splashing my face with cold water, I went back to waiting tables for the afternoon. At home, I called Steve, but he didn’t answer. I knew he’d call me back if he saw that I called him, but I had to pack my things to catch my flight in the morning. At the last minute, I put a few pieces of lingerie, some lube, and condoms just to make sure we were not short of them if- _when_ he arrived.

I caught my Uber the next morning, and Steve had texted me to call him as I was leaving for the airport. I called Steve as I was dropped of Ronald Reagan International Airport.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied.

There was a long paused.

“You’re being mobilized.”

“Yeah.”

I wanted to curse. Steve hated cursing, and I dislike it myself, but right now was the time. “You know I didn’t plan this, right?”

I felt like crying. “I know,” I said.

“Please don’t cry on me.”

“I’m not,” I said, trying my damnedest not to. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“What did you say to me about having faith? That I’d come home safe? I need that right now.”

“I’m going to wear that Captain America decoder ring until you get back. And red, white, and blue.”

“Don’t get superstitious on me. Just say a few rosaries for me. I’m gonna be fine, okay? Promise.”

I sniffed.

“I said don’t cry on me. I don’t know what to do when dames cry.”

“I’ll be fine,” I promised, although that was not the case.

“Be strong for me. When I get debriefed and sent home, I’ll come straight to wherever you are. I’ve got your itinerary you emailed me memorized.”

“And you can’t have your phone either?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

I swallowed my tears. “You’ve got something to come home to.”

* * *

Lauren picked me up at the airport in her dented minivan with Peyton and Matthew in tow. I greeted them all with hugs and kisses, and Peyton claimed she remembered me a little bit.

“You look like somebody shot your puppy,” Lauren said.

“Steve’s not coming to Christmas,” I muttered. “I really wanted him to come, but he got mobilized.”

“What does he do again?”

“He’s in the Special Ops for the Army,” I replied.

“Well, Mom’s at Courtyard Inn already, waiting to see us. Do you want to go now or later?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Let’s go now. Might as well rip the band-aid off fast.”

At the Courtyard Inn, Momma had already reserved a room for herself. She hadn’t brought Todd, my stepfather, along.

While it was eleven, Mom had already started drinking, but she was the good mother right now, not the verbally abusive drunken phone witch.

“I’m so happy to see my girls!” Mom cried. I could hear a slight slur in her voice. “Danielle, where’s your new boyfriend?”

“He’s not going to make it,” I said, trying to be as strong as possible.

“Oh, that’s too bad! You really like him, don’t you?”

I doubted he’d like her. "I do," I admited. "He was mobilized by the time I got out of work this morning."

“I'm sorry about that, I really wanted to meet him. Why don’t I get some presents out for my grandchildren!” Momma sang. Peyton and Matthew cheered.

She got out some presents, and they ripped them open immediately. Momma offered us some chardonnay to drink, but we didn’t want to day drink. Lauren ran down the hall to the vending machines for some drinks for us.

“So, I want to hear all about this Steven fellow,” Momma said. “Is his handsome? Does he have a good job?”

“Yes on both accounts,” I said. “He’s military.”

“Oh, honey,” she said. “You know how military men get: they’re always a little messed up from combat.”

I held my tongue.

“I doubt he makes enough for you to have a comfortable life.”

“I’ll make enough,” I said.

The door to the hotel room opened and Lauren returned with Diet Cokes. “Hi! They were out of Diet Coke, here’s Diet Dr Pepper.”

“Oh, thanks,” I said, as she handed me the can.

“I was just talking to Danielle about how important it is to marry someone who’s got a regular, civilian job that makes enough money that she doesn’t have to work.”

“Momma, you know I have to work,” Lauren said.

“Well, Russell just needs a little more support-”

“His health insurance doesn’t cover Matthew’s medical bills for his CP,” Lauren said. “Mine does.”

“You were smart becoming a nurse,” Momma said. “And I’m proud of you for that. But I really want Dani to make a good choice here. It is so hard to have a husband who can’t support himself or you.”

“We haven’t even talked about marriage yet.” We hadn’t even slept together, it was way too soon to talk forever.

The visit with my mother was alright. It wasn’t wonderful, but it wasn’t bad, either.

After I got settled into my room at home, we had an afternoon of watching _Rudolph_ with the kids decorating gingerbread men with Nanny, and then we went out to a Christmas Party at a neighbor’s house. The entire time my mind was on Steve and what was going on in Syria. Was he there? How dangerous was it? Did tha Captain America suit have bullet proof protection? What if he got his by shrapnel? Could his body withstand it as a genetically superior super soldier? I tried to socialize, without a lot of luck. When the party was over, we went to Midnight Mass. I used to love Mass, it left me feeling so peaceful. But in the wake of things, I was still distracted. The one thing that brought me back to reality was Lauren’s solo to _O, Holy Night_.

Back at Daddy’s house, I checked my computer for any news on the situation in Syria. A town by the name of Aleppo was under siege by one of the four factions. No news website could give me a clear idea of what was happening.

There was a knock on the door to my room. “Hey, Dani-girl,” Daddy said, sticking his head in the door. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet your boyfriend.”

“Again,” I tried to joke. “He had volunteered for Christmas coverage before we even met. Why do these things always happen on holidays?”

“That’s life in the Special Ops, honey.”

I nodded.

“Always unpredictable, always in danger. Have you heard from him?”

“He wasn’t allowed any electrical devices.”

“I hope he’s special,” Daddy said.

“Oh, he is,” I said. “Very much.”

“If he is, I hope he doesn’t break your heart like Chad did… and that he’s really special and treats you right, it’ll be worth it. Merry Christmas, Dani-girl.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

He kissed me goodnight.

I checked my phone. Again. For news on Steve.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mid-week update! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Sorry about the last chapter, I knew it was too much Dani, and needed more STEEEEVE. That's what you're here for, not her. I had to write that part, though, otherwise I'd be rushing through and skipping things. But, it was important. This is where it starts to get a little smutty, but not too much. I hope you like a little light smut, the harder stuff is coming later!  
> XOXO,  
> Blue

“Forgive me for not inviting you in,” I told Alissa. She and Joel had come to pick me up at the airport and brought Lourdes Marie along. “I’m just ready to lay down and get some rest. Christmas was exhausting.”

“I know it’s been rough,” Alissa said from the front seat. I hadn’t gotten any updates or news, yet on the Syrian situation.

“Hey, we’re rooting for him,” Joel promised.

“You’ll bring him by for our Super Bowl Party?” Alissa assured me. “He’s coming back.”

Joel pulled up to my apartment building and they both got out with me, Joel to help me get my suitcase out of the back of his Aztec. “Can I help you bring it in?” he asked.

“No, I’ve got it,” I said. “Thank you guys for picking me up.”

“We love you,” Alissa said, hugging me, handing me the carrier with Lourdes Marie in it. “And we’re really hoping Steve’s okay and comes home soon.”

“Me too,” I said, squeezing her. Joel hugged me, too.

I went into the gate through the courtyard and saw somebody sitting on the top of the steps up to my apartment. I paused, seeing items around him, nervous.

“Dani?”

I realized it was Steve’s voice. “Steve!” I shouted, dropping everything but Lourdes Marie, and I ran up the stairs. He stood up and scooped me up into his arms, lifting my feet up off the concrete. “You’re safe!”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m here. I’m home. Thank God.” I held him for a long time before he let me go. We didn’t say anything for a moment. “I’ll get your suitcase,” he said.

I unlocked the door and put Lourdes Marie’s carrying case down on the bed while Steve came up with my laptop bag and suitcase, and I brought in his super-heavy duffel bag, locking the door behind him. I let Lourdes Marie out. “So where did they send you?”

“It was to Aleppo,” he said. I could see a scruff of beard growing on his jaw. “That town… Oh my God, Dani, it was like being back in Europe during World War II.”

I swallowed, seeing the hollowed-out presence in his eyes. He sat down on my bed and I sat beside him, hugging him.

“I’m going to make some dinner,” I said. “Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“I haven’t showered in a few days,” he admitted.

“Okay, you get first dibs.”

I had a few cans of tomato soup in my cabinets and the ingredients for some grilled cheese sandwiches. With my tiny galley kitchen, I made two sandwiches for him while heating the soup in a saucepan.

The bathroom door opened, and I saw steam pouring out from around the corner.

“I hope you’re okay with tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches,” I said.

I could see him, wearing nothing but sweatpants, shaving with that straight razor in the fogged up mirror that had been wiped clear, but was fogging up again.

“That sounds great. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said.

I stood transfixed, looking at his beautiful form for a moment, before shaking it off. He really had been shaped into the perfect soldier: I could see the broad expanse of his shoulders, the ‘Christmas tree’ of his lats, the way it narrowed down to the perfect ass… But I knew what it was like to have people make advances towards you simply to objectify you. I could never do that to Steve. What he had seen, he was not in a good headspace right now, either.

Back to the kitchen, I sent Alissa a text that Steve had been waiting on my apartment steps when I arrived.

 _Have good sex,_ she wrote back.

Oh, I would.

Steve came out of the bathroom pulling a fresh t-shirt over his beautiful torso, covering it up. I could see a few bruises under his cheekbone and a few scratches on his body. I pulled him in close. He smelled fresh, like my body wash and shampoo, which he had probably used. “You’ve got to stop following where I’m going or where you think I’m going,” he said “It’s going to drive you crazy.”

“I just want to know that you’re safe,” I admitted.

“I’m not always safe,” he said, his fingers stroking my hair. I lifted my head and stood on my toes to bring my lips to his.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “It’s nice to have someone to come home to, though.”

“I’ve already had something to eat,” I said, going back to the kitchenette. “Here, this is for you.” I  pulled out the chair and he took a seat in the squeaky folding chair by the card table.

“Just a moment, I have something to help you with heating up the apartment,” he said, getting some items out of his duffel. “I stopped by the Home Depot on the way over here.” He withdrew a bag of tea light candles, a terra cotta planter, a short chunk of particle board wood, and two bricks. “I learned this in World War II, it’s a very quick and convenient way of heating a space for very little money. We found a lot of these items just around as we advanced through the land.”

“What is it?” I asked.

He set the particle board up on my desk, and put the tea light under it. He put the bricks on either side of the tea light and then lit it and put the tiny terra cotta planter over it. “Give it some time, the room’ll warm up.”

“Thanks.”

“You know your windows are leaking the heat out?”

“I stuff towels around them all the time, it doesn’t help,” I shrugged.

“It’s freezing in here,” he grumbled, lighting the tea. “You live in a slum.”

“It’s not that bad,” I said. I knew he was upset about what he had seen. Maybe he just needed to unload and talk about it. “Can you tell me what happened? Whatever you can.”

“They sent me to Aleppo, S.H.I.E.L.D., I mean,” he said. “They sent me in as a goodwill symbol to the city, to make America look good. You understand there’s four factions in their Civil War, right? But, it’s hell. The people of Aleppo can’t get out and no food gets in. There’s a no-fly zone, I was driven in, and brought to the last remaining hospital. It’s horrible there. People are starving. The children, that was the worst part. On Christmas Eve, when I got in, the Russian-funded rebels were waiting for nightfall. Intel said that they were going to go across the city, and in their path would be the hospital. They asked me to defend the hospital perimeter. Do you know how intimidating it is to defend an entire hospital full of people mostly by yourself? The worst part is, they took me through to meet these kids. They were… starving.” I could tell it was choking him up. I felt tears in my eyes, just imaging in it. “Their eyes… just…” He shook his head. “And they were running out of medical supplies. I know people here in America are terrified of Muslims and don’t want to let them in, but I’d bring these kids with me in a heartbeat. No child deserves to starve to death in a warzone. I started remembering the camp we passed in Poland, where I saw kids in striped uniforms.”

“A concentration camp?” I asked, surprised.

He nodded. “They were real. People were being systematically executed to exterminate an entire race. You call it the Holocaust, now. It happened. I couldn’t go to the Holocaust museum because I can’t relive that by choice. I was reliving it there.”

I wiped the tears sliding down my cheeks.

“They gave me food. And entire damn plate. And couldn’t reject it because… that was all the food they had and they were giving it to me as a gift. I held a few of the kids who were traumatized and not speaking, and… I just wanted to take them home with me. When nightfell, that’s when the gunshots and bombs started. The Russian-funded rebels didn’t care, they came towards the hospital.”

“What happened?” I whispered.

“The few armed men that were available, they set up perimeter at my command. I managed to kill a few of the rebels coming directly at the hospital, shooting sawed-off shotguns and setting off pipe bombs. But we got them to turn away and went around, saving the elderly, the sick, and the children in the hospital. But the biggest danger at that hospital is their lack of food and medical supplies. Most of these people are innocents. The elderly are prepared to die, and would volunteer to forgo medical supplies and food to save the children, but that still wouldn’t help. And those that are escaping, we’re going to have racist, small-minded, idiotic, Islamophobic people in the US turn them away when they need us the most, like the Statue of Liberty never existed. All I can think about is how that’s going to make them join up with the Islamic State if we reject them, not join us in the fight. What kind of morons want ISIS to get stronger?”

“I know,” I whispered. “There’s not much you can do to convince them to be on the right side of history… or even on the right side of the good of the world.”

“Evil never dies, it just reinvents itself,” he said, tossing his grilled cheese sandwich triangle down on the plate, angry. “I keep toying with the idea of taking off my mask and exposing who I am for the the media, and taking a stand on this. America needs to know that these things are going to affect us. It’s unAmerican to keep the refugees out. But then again, if I take the mask off, I’ll be doing exactly what they did to me in 1943 when Dr Erskine completed his experiment on me and died, they put me in a USO show, and I was nothing more than a monkey on a unicycle hocking war bonds. Do you know that when they tried to take my USO show to the front lines, I got mocked and booed off the stage. What if I took off my mask and that’s what happened?”

“I know, Steve,” I said softly. “Think about what to do, and you’ll make the right choice. Just don’t make it on a whim.” His head was wrapped up in Syria right now. His urge to save lives and do the right thing made me need him. I wanted him in my arms, to be at his side, and to support him. Natasha was right: he was the truest, most pure soul I had ever met. “I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed, I’ll be out in a few minutes. Eat your dinner.” I kissed his temple, his damp hair brushing my lips.

I took a shower, scrubbing my feet down so they were smooth, and then shaved my legs once I got out. I was running out Japanese Cherry Blossom lotion, I needed to get some more. I had pulled some of my lingerie out of my suitcase, and I decided that since Steve liked red on me, I chose the red and black lace bustier and a pair of black satin panties. For good measure, I put on some red lip stain as well. I took a deep breath, not wanting to intimidate him, but opened the door to the bathroom and went over to my bed, where Steve was laying, sipping a cup of soup. He saw me, but did a double-take.

“Relax, I just wanted to be pretty for you,” I said. “And just in case… I got these at the clinic.” I pulled a couple of condoms and some lube and set it down on the nightstand.

Steve sat up and sighed.

“We don’t have to do anything,” I said.

“You’re pretty for me every night,” he said. “You don’t need fancy lace…” His eyes drifted to the red and black satin cups, and his cheeks tinged pink, “ _underthings_ to get my attention.”

“I want to be close to you too, Steve. I know I said we’re going to take it as it comes,” I began, but he looked like a deer in the headlights, terrified. I rolled over onto my side. “I know we haven’t talked about what we both want, but I’m not going to try to force you to do anything.”

“Are you sure?”

I sighed, covering myself up. “I don’t mind taking the lead. I want make you feel good, too. I tell you what: I’m gonna ask what you like.”

I saw his cheeks go pink. “Dani, I don’t ... I don’t know if I can say those things-”

I could never image Steve talking dirty. _Ever._ “That’s not what I meant. I’m not going to ask you directions, I’m going to do something and ask if you’re okay with it, all you have to do is say yes or no. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. Alright, tell me if you like this?” I asked. I ran my fingers along his sides, hooking the hem of his t-shirt, drawing it up just enough to be able to run my fingers along his searing hot skin, leaning in to kiss him while I drew my fingertips up the bare flesh on his obliques. I felt goosebumps cover his skin. “Okay? Or not enough?” I asked, pulling away from the kiss, but we were literally a breath apart. He was trembling, his eyes shut.

“Too much,” he gasped.

“I’m sorry. You’ve had a rough couple of days.” I said softly. I played with his hair and he laid back onto the pillow. He slipped an arm around the small of my back and squeezed me to him.

“I want touch you. I fantasize about you, but… I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Just do what I just did. _Ask_ me,” I said. “I’m not going to say _no_ when I mean _yes_ and vice versa. Do you want to try touching me?”

He slipped his arms under mine, pulling me in close to him, and I realized he was sliding down my body and his head rested between my breasts. He moaned softly into the softness and I felt his hands on the small of my back. I stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head. “You’re doing just fine,” I assured him.

His hand snaked down my hips, squeezing my ass cheeks gently. I liked it.

We laid in the bed this way until we fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up with Steve on the other side of the bed. “Good morning,” I muttered. “Didn’t we fall asleep with your head in my boobs, squeezing my butt?”

“You shoved me off the bed, like John Heisman because you were getting too hot.” He had a smirk on his face.

“I did that?” I asked, finding it funny. I got up out of the bed to brush my teeth.

“I was going to go read my book in the kitchen, but the chairs squeaked so much I knew I’d wake you up.”

“Well thanks for letting me sleep,” I said, picking up my toothbrush He had relit the little tea light candle and the room was still luxuriously warm this morning. My tiny studio apartment felt downright cozy for once. “Did I talk in my sleep again?”

“You told me what happened to the Lindbergh baby.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t know about…”

“Oh, yeah!” I cried, remembering the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby in the early 1900s. “I get it!” I said, spitting and rinsing my mouth. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

“Are you still on call?” I asked, getting out my mascara.

“Yeah, but my phone’s been silent.”

“We could go out to breakfast. Somewhere other than the Starlight diner. How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like I can take on the world,” Steve said, watching me apply some mascara.

“Good,” I said, climbing back into the bed.

“My head was still in Syria last night,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. How do you not carry that around all the time?” I asked, climbing into the bed, pressing my body close to him. He wrapped his arms under my own and squeezed me. His lips found mine in a gentle, but firm kiss.

“I dunno. I dream about you, but this piece…” His fingers slid under my bustier strap, “it’s beyond my wildest dreams, Dani. I liked what you did last night, I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful.”

“You didn’t,” I whispered. “Last night was intense. The last three days must have been tough for you.”

I slipped my arms around his shoulders us as he kissed along my jaw.

“You’re like… like the first time I went to Coney Island, the wooden roller coaster. I barely passed the height requirement, but... A new adventure around every corner, your curves taking my breath away and it’s…” he nuzzled my neck, pressing lips against my pulse point. “Exciting… And new… and slightly terrifying because…” he kissed my sensitive skin under my ear, “I don’t know what’s coming next.” He caught my earlobe between his teeth. I could feel his warm breath in my ear.

I moaned softly, feeling his mouth on me

His shirt’s hemline had ridden up a bit, I felt a warm patch of skin that was probably his lower abdomen side. His skin was thin and stretched across his muscles, he was so lean. He groaned softly, eyes fluttering to the ceiling as my fingers made contact with his hot flesh.

“Can I try again?” I asked him.

“Alright,” he said softly.

“I’ll be gentle.”

I slid down his torso kissing his chest through the soft t-shirt material. I could hear his heart beating faster, and his hand slipped into my hair. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his torso, and I took my time. Being that he was still a virgin, I wanted him to be enthusiastic about what I was doing to him, not unsure and partial. I listened to his breathing as I worked my way down. I could feel one of his nipples through the fabric. A little further down, I slid my fingers under the hem and shoved it up. I heard a small grunt from the back of his throat when my lips touched his bare skin. His muscles shifted underneath and I pushed the shirt up a little more. His muscles stood out from his abdomen, little chill bumps crossing his flesh. He was nothing but planes of muscles and pale skin. I pushed it up just a little bit more, almost to his pecs, exploring more with my mouth.

“Can we take this off?” I asked, straddling his hips, sitting up. “If you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” he muttered, his eyes hooded, watching me. He lifted his shoulders up off he mattress and I helped him with discarding the flimsy t-shirt from over his head. His skin was smooth, clear, no ink. I laid back down on his chest, feeling his warmth radiating out from him, and I breathed in his scent: he smelled like my Dove cucumber body wash from my shower and something else, something woodsy and spicy, like aftershave.

His hands slid over my hips and he gripped them through the spandex of the bustier. I ground my hips into his to see if I could elicit some kind of reaction out of him. “How’s that?” I asked.

“You’re magic,” he muttered. “You feel so good.”

I slid the straps off my shoulders from the top and pressed a kiss along the corner of his mouth. I could feel as hitch in his breathing.

“Dani, umm…” I saw a smirk turn up the corners of his mouth as he looked at me from under his eye lashes. “Will you take this off?”

I grimaced. I hated undressing for men. It had been hard with Chad, my old body dysmorphia came back, and I started believing I had the ugliest body in the world… “This is hard for me,” I admitted.

“I know you’ll be perfect.”

“Have you ever seen a naked woman in real life?”

“I was an art student,” he scoffed. “Of course.”

I fingered the bottom hem of the bustier and tugged it up over my head. He took me in, his smirk fading at the sight of my body, studying me, wearing nothing but a pair of black silk panties, sitting on his hips now. His breath caught in his throat, almost imperceptibly.

“I knew I was right,” he muttered.

A bulge was growing in his pants under my butt. I hadn’t had a man look at me like that in long time. It felt unnerving for a moment, that he’d change his mind about me if I struck the wrong angle, an unflattering one. I picked up his hand and kissed his palm, but didn’t let his go. I slid my leg over his hips so I was laying parallel with him again. “Here,” I said softly, but he resisted, I saw him panicking, but his hand was tense against me. I held his wrist to keep his hand in place. His hand moulded to the curve of my breast and felt his cock hardening against my thigh. He was trying to control his breathing, and I could hear his heart thundering. Mine was, too. I leaned in to kiss him and let my free hand greedily brush that bulge in his shorts, but his body seize up beneath me, and his eyes squeezed shut, with a strangled cry.

“Fuck,” I whispered. I felt the hot cum through his clothes on my hand.

I had gone too far too fast with him. There was a flush of embarrassment on his face and chest almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Please, don’t be embarrassed!” I reached over to the nightstand and got a tissue for him.

He groaned, and lift the waistband of his shorts, but the elastic snapped back.

I pulled the sheet up over my breasts. “That was my fault, I told you I’m not that experienced-”

“Can I have a moment?” he snapped, avoiding my eyes.

I got off him and grabbed the sheet to turn away from him. I felt the mattress shift behind me.

“Steve, please don’t be upset,” I begged.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” he muttered.

“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “We’re a team, right?”

“Danielle, this is not the time to-”

“Sexual experiences are usually really awkward the first time for couples anyway,” I blathered, more to convince myself. “We’ve still got to learn each other-”

“Please don’t psycho-analyze me right now,” he muttered. “That was humiliating.”

“I didn’t mean for it to be,” I whispered. He got up and stormed into the bathroom, shutting the door on me.

I felt horrible.

I put on some pajamas and got up to make coffee. Steve didn’t come out for a while and the shower came on. By the time I had started on my first cup of coffee, he came out, hair wet, scowl still on his face and wearing fresh clothes. He didn’t say anything and I was embarrassed as hell. What was I thinking, going straight for his member like that? I had gotten too eager, of course, the usual for me.

“I made coffee?” I offered, trying to get him to speak to me. “Do you want a cup?"

“Please.”

After a long awkward stretch of cranky silence where we operated _around_ each other, I finally said something. “Are we going to talk about this?”

“We didn’t talk about this kind of stuff in the forties!”

“Well, you’re in the twenty-first century now, _we_ do!” I cried. “This happens. A lot more than a lot of people would like to admit!”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself short. “I was going to say something horrible, but…”

“This is new territory for both of us,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t hate me for what had just happened. “Steve, I understand.”

He sat down on the bed with his coffee, staring into the mug. “I thought I’d do better my first time,” he muttered. “You know, you have this idea if your head and… then you don’t live up to it...”

I kneeled down in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. He was just as embarrassed as me, if not more. “I went too far too fast,” I admitted.

“Are first times really this awful?” he mumbled.

“We haven’t had a first time, yet,” I reminded him, “This doesn’t count.”

“Do you have to talk through everything?”

“I’m training to be a therapist. So yes!”

He fought back a smirk, but it put me at ease. He was calming down.

“What were you going to say?” I asked.

“Something mean.”

“How mean?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, what? I can handle it.”

“I was just going to say something along the lines of um…  ‘You’ve really been with that many men, Dani?’”

I laughed aloud. “I guess that’s the 1940s equivalent of ‘that’s what she said.’”

“No, what does that even mean?” he asked. “It’s like the English language changed in seventy years to something I can’t even understand it any more.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to see the jump in reads on Chapter 13! WOW! Over 250 views? Somebody pinch me! Thank you all so much for reading my smutty little Mary Sue fic. I hope y'all enjoy what's coming up!

Steve’s mood improved after we made some eggs and had another cup of coffee.

“What are you doing on New Years Eve?” he asked me.

“Working,” I said.

“You work too much.”

“So do you, we’re a pair,” I replied. “Why did you ask?”

“Because I was thinking… we should go on vacation. And watch the sunrise on the beach on New Year’s Day.”

“Grad school students don’t get vacations unless their parents pay for them,” I said. “I don’t have the money for one.”

“I’d take care of the cost,” he said, almost offended.

“And then what? You pay for everything? You want to be my meal ticket? No, thanks. We’ve talked about this. You’ll just have to wait until I’ve graduated from school.”

“That’s no fun.”

“We could take a weekend in the woods in North Carolina,” I suggested. “You don’t know how much I want to go to the beach, especially right now when it’s so cold out. But my father's beach house is rented out until March.”

“You’re sure we can’t go, like, mid-week or something? Not necessarily New Year’s, but...”

“I hate saying this, but I’m trying to work to pay for the time I took off on Thanksgiving and Christmas so I don’t have to take out more student loans than I need for tuition. I’m trying to be practical about what I have to pay back. I’m basically living paycheck to paycheck right now. I hardly had money to buy presents for my nephew and nieces at Christmas. It sucks, but things’ll get better in the future.”

“I just want a chance to be close with you.”

“We can have a nice time at home in our apartments together. You don’t have to blow a lot of money on me.”

“I can’t spoil my girlfriend?”

“Steve, you make an officer’s salary.”

“You don’t know what I make!”

“You’re not Tony Stark, who blows in nose with fifties.”

“Well, that was appetizing,” he said, grinning.

“I could have cruder. But, we can be poor and still have a good time. There are ways. Come on, I have to go to work.”h

We packed up his duffel and we started on our way to the Metro.

“What about January?” He asked.

“I’m going back to school on January 4th,” I said.

“You’re the busiest person I know,” he sighed.

“Did you have a good time last night with me?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. “We can make time for sex, you know.”

“Dani,” Steve groaned.

“Do we need to make an announcement?” I teased. “I’m going to and then you’ll know how many people roll their eyes and say they could care less. At least give me a kiss.”

“Fine,” he said, leaning down to kiss me as we got to the diner.

* * *

I ended up working most of New Year’s Eve, and drunk people were leaving the best tips. At about ten, people were filing out when Steve darkened the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” I cried, running to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I am officially off duty,” he said. “For three whole days.”

“I’m off tomorrow, you know that, right?”

“Good!” he cried.

“Come on, have a seat. They’re still making waffles in the kitchen.”

“Chocolate chip. Please.”

After I fed Steve, we locked up the diner. He waited on me to finish closing up the kitchen while reading. “Are you ready to go?” I asked him, putting on my coat.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“To my place, I’m not up for braving the bars tonight.”

“Me neither.”

I got the feeling he was eager to get me home in bed. The Metro was mostly deserted at eleven, which was relaxing. I had done this kind of stuff when I was in college, and in the end, the Ubers were expensive and the Metro would probably be a grope-fest after midnight, and it was cold. Super cold. The weather reports said that snowy weather was coming in. We stopped off and got some Chinese food and some boxed wine started back to my place.

“I want to a get a shower in,” I said as we got my apartment open.

“This used to be a hotel, didn’t it?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “It looks like it, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll get your food ready, you get first dibs.”

I took a shower and just for good measure afterwards, I lotioned up before getting dressed so I smelled nice.

“Guess what I got!” Steve announced, grin on his face, as I came out of the bathroom. “I found a way to get the football bowl games on your computer!”  
“You did?”

“I’ve got UT playing Nebraska.”

“Yes!” I cried, pumping my fist.

He had poured some wine for me and had my order of Lo Mein in a bowl waiting for me with chopsticks. We watched the game from the bed, eating dinner.

“I had so much fun twirling in the football games,” I sighed as the majorettes were shown marching out onto the field. The camera cut away and went back to the sportscasters. “Aww!” I moaned. “I wanted to see what this year’s majorette line was doing.”

“I’m sorry I never got to see you twirl a baton,” he said. “Do you have one?”

“I do, actually,” I said, putting down my bowl and reaching under the bed to find my baton case. “I have a whole bunch of them.”

“Let’s see!”

“No! Not in here! We’ll go outside,” I said. “I can’t do a toss in here.”

I put on my sneakers and went downstairs. He stayed on the balcony at the top of the stairs, and I warmed up with a few figure 8’s in the dark.

“Can you see anything?” I asked, realizing he was taking a video of me in the darkness.

“I can see you, but it’s not showing up on my camera.”

“Hold on,” I said, getting out my fire batons and the lighter that still had some juice in it. I lit the baton on fire on both ends and started up on the figure-8’s and finger twirls, then did some parallel tosses and tosses, my moves lit up by the flames.

Batons always felt like an extension of me when I had been twirling for hours. I was rusty tonight, but I managed to do a spin-toss, but I missed the catch. I twirled them until I started feeling icy droplets of snow pinging my skin.

“Did you get some good video of it?” I asked him as came up the stairs to my apartment room.

“Let show you,” he said."Twirling with fire, that was perfect. You were amazing." He bent down to kiss me and I glowed.

"What time is it?"

“It’s almost midnight."

"The ball’s about to drop in Times Square!"

He shrugged. "You see it once, you seen every one of them."

“Oh, you got to see it back in the 30s and 40s, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, back in the day,” he sighed.

“Now, I feel guilty. You haven’t seen the ball drop in seventy years and you’re missing it!”

“Yeah, being in Times Square with a bunch of drunks throwing up all over the place and starting fights? That's is completely superior to spending the night with you twirling fire batons… and Lourdes Marie.”

 

* * *

 

I hadn’t planned on Steve arriving for New Year’s, although I was happy to see him.

After we watched the ball drop on my laptop, we curled up on the bed together.

“You’re not going to follow when I’m mobilized and drive yourself bonkers any more, are you?” Steve asked, kissing along my shoulder.

I groaned softly at the sensation of his lips against my skin. Too bad I had to disappoint him tonight. “I wish you had a normal job, like in an office.”

“I’m not made for that,” he said, rolling me over. “I hardly understand computers and I’d go insane. I’d never survive that. I wish I had gone to college sometimes. But then again, I never really liked school. I wish you were going to school in New York.”

“I wish I were closer, too,” I said. “But I think we’re doing the long distance thing okay. We just need to have our weekends together and stick to them, as best we can. I want to finish school so I can support myself better.”

“I’d support you,” Steve said, as if I were being silly. “And let’s think about down the line, like if we got married. No wife of mine is going to work.”

“That’s dangerously old-fashioned thinking,” I replied. “But sweet. But who says I want to give up my career? Modern couples have a difficult time being a one-salary unit these days anyway.  And I know that officer’s salaries aren’t a lot.”

“I have some war bonds from the war I never cashed in.”

“That’s good for what, now?”

He shrugged. “I think they’re good for around three thousand dollars each, now.”

“That’s hardly enough to get by,” I replied. “And besides, what if something happens to you? What if you get injured or disabled on assignment for S.H.I.E.L.D.? What do I do, go back to working at a call center for hardly enough to get by without food stamps and healthcare like I did when I graduated undergrad? Who pays my student loans? No, thank you! I want a future with you in it, where were both safe together, without the threat of poverty hanging over our heads.”

He sighed, and rested his chin on my sternum between my breasts.

“What’s going on in your head?”

“I remember how jealous I was that Bucky had both his parents. Mom worked her fingers to the bone for us, even then it wasn’t enough.”

“Women are making more now, but still there’s a pay gap,” I admitted.

“Dani, I’m going to be the man who supports you-“

“Again with that toxic masculinity from the forties,” I sighed, running my fingers through his soft blond hair on the top of his head.

“If a man can’t support his wife and children, what good is he?”

“Men are worth a lot more than just their paychecks,” I reminded him. “You can be a loving and caring role model for your children. You can be the parent that teaches them life skills, like how to fix things or how to draw pictures. Hell, you created a cheap and efficient heating system in my apartment that works just great. Kids need to learn these things. You have a wealth of knowledge to share with children and the world. Maybe you have more to offer society, too, like your knowledge of World War II and your experiences. But Steve, I _want_ to work. What I went through with a mother who tried every trick in the book to manipulate custody of Lauren and me away from our father so she’d get more child support and alimony, she had never developed a career and had backed herself into a corner financially. And I hate that there are other people out there going through depression and eating disorders and all kinds of problems who think they’re alone. I _want_ to help them, regardless of if I have children. I can make a difference in their lives if I get the education and license to practice.”

“I keep thinking about Peggy when I’m around you.”

“What about her?”

“She said to me a few times, ‘ _are those your_ only _options?_ ’ She was a woman in World War II, and serving in the military, not as a WAC or factory worker, but as a full-on agent. Women just didn’t do those things back then. I think that’s why…”

“Did you have a relationship with her?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I told you: we kissed. Once. I was supposed to go on a date with her the next week… she moved on without me.”

“She probably missed you and mourned you for a while. She sounds like she was a really interesting lady.”

“She was. And the way you’re pushing forward with a career and not settling, you kind of remind me of her spirit… I’m sorry, we shouldn’t be talking about her.”

“No, I don’t mind knowing about her. I need to know my competition in your head, y’know? I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Did you love her?”

He shook his head. “I think I could have fallen in love with her. Lord knows I was jealous of her when she was getting along with Howard Stark.”

“Jealousy is the worst,” I agreed.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“With a narcissist, yeah.”

“I hope I’m not one.”

“No, Stevie, you’re the opposite. I’m lucky to be with you.”

“Even if I can’t support you? Or do you just not want me to?”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t mind you being the primary earner. I want to be equals. If I can support us, I’m going to. If I can’t and we agree it’s okay that I don’t, I won’t. It’s not fair to you to be responsible for me alone when I can and _want_ to help. It’s not right. It’s not feminism.”

“People say that word like it’s dirty,” he remarked.

“Men get hurt when they’re not feminist, too,” I said. “Toxic masculinity is a bad thing. Feminism is trying to make things more equal. It lets men feel their feelings and allows them to have emotions. You don’t feel like you can do that, so you?” I asked.

“I don’t care about that kind of stuff,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, you do. You told me about Aleppo and how much it disturbed you. You’ve got feelings, Steve. You’re human. You’re allowed to feel them. Men get hurt when you’re supposed to be these machines without feelings. Dr Erskine didn’t take that away from you.”

“No, he didn’t. But, seriously, feminism is women trying to take over men’s roles-“

“Absolutely not! My mother was physically abusive with not only me and Lauren, but with my dad. You don’t know how many meltdowns and hissy fits she threw, a lot of them were aimed at my father, but he wouldn’t hit her back, because he knew that if he did, the MPs would get called and he’d be court-martialed. So, she had free reign to beat the snot out of him when she was in a mood. The MPs would have emasculated him, and people who knew thought he was a complete wimp for letting a woman hit him. He was so embarrassed. In a feminist world, my mother would have been arrested and tried for domestic battery and assault for abusing him, because nobody should hit anybody in the first place. She had no real reason to hit my father. We found a lot of support in feminists who said she should have been tried for assault just like any man who hit his wife. It was abusive. That’s why I said I’d never hold something like your virginity over your head... because it’s _abusive_ . _That. That’s_ why we need feminism.”

“It’s a nice idea,” Steve said. “Equality. All people facing equal consequences for their actions.”

“Despite their gender.”

“That makes so much sense. Count me as a feminist, then. “

“Wow, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend wanted to be a feminist before.”

“Well, I guess I’m your first, har, har.”

“Hey, we’re not going to make jokes about your virginity, alright? We’re partners. And if you’re a virgin, it’s part of me, too, because now there’s _us_.”

He squeezed me tight. “I waited for you. I can’t believe it took me seventy years to find you, but I know you’re worth it.”

“Hey, in your lifetime, only twenty-five of those counted.” His hand rested on my belly button, under my shirt as he went it kiss me. “Wait,” I said, placing a hand over his.

He looked up at me, surprised.

“Um… I don’t want to tell you this, but…You know there are times women just can’t, right?”

He groaned. “Don’t tell me… what I _think_ you’re telling me?”

“Aunt Flo came to visit.”

He groaned and sat back.

“I’m sorry. You came here for sex, didn’t you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Steve, be serious.”

“Okay, not that alone.”

“Sorry about the disappointment.” I shrugged.

“Oh, I’m not… okay, I _am_ disappointed, if we’re not supposed to lie to each other!”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad,” I begged softly, feeling him tense up.

“I’m not mad at you, I was just really looking forward to a night alone with you… Since we don’t get them too often.”

“Me too,” I admitted. But, there were different ways to have sex. “If you’ll lay down, I can still give you a good time.”

“Pardon?”

“Just let me make you feel good,” I replied, sliding a leg across his hips so I could sit on him. I ran my hands up his chest, pushing his t-shirt up to reveal his pale muscles. “Can we take this off?”

“Sure,” he said, lifting his shoulders up. I pulled it over his head and tossing the shirt to the floor with the sham pillows. I reached down to my hips and tugged my own shirt up over my head, not wearing a bra. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his eyelids heavy, taking me in. I took his hands and brought them up to my breasts so he could cup them, and get familiar with them. His thumbs ran over my breasts and then over my nipples. I moaned softly and threw my head back to enjoy the electricity that ran through my torso while my nipples got hard. I felt his breathing get shorter: good, I was having an effect on him. I ground into him a little.

“It’s okay to touch me,” I whispered.

He sighed in relief and his hands stroking up my middle to my breasts again. I was getting pretty turned on myself. The fear that I wasn’t sexy or hot enough evaporated in my mind. He was responding to me, his touches were deliberate. “Dani,” he breathed. “You’re so… amazing.”

I felt him growing even harder beneath me. “Can we go ahead and take these off?” I asked, toying with the drawstring of his pants.

“Um… okay.”

“You’re sure? You don’t sound sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I tugged his pants down a little bit, and I could feel the v-shaped outline of his pelvic bone, his downy pubic hair was soft against my chin as I kissed along his lower abdominals. His fingers ghosted my hair on top of my head as my lips made contact with his skin, my fingers running along his pelvic bone.

“Too much?” I asked.

“I’m just not used to it, that’s all,” he panted. For a guy who never broke a sweat, this had him going.

I tugged his pants down a little more, along with his shorts, and his cock popped out, mostly erect. Knowing what he had gone through, my hope was that he had a decent sized cock from Dr. Erskine’s experiment, he had come through. Steve’s cock was perfect, and big enough to make me want to do a happy dance. But I knew how nerve-wracking it could be to have someone see the most intimate part of your body for the first time. He had been so sweet to me the first time I took my top off for him, too, and he had insecurities of his own. I didn’t make a huge deal out of it, it would have embarrassed him. I drew the rest of his clothes off his legs and tossed them aside with the t-shirt on the floor. “Perfect,” I remarked, climbing up his body.

“Don’t ever do that for another man,” he said, his voice low and throaty. “I want you all to myself.” He grabbed me and kissed me hungrily. I whimpered softly into his mouth, he covered my face with hungry kisses, and slipped his hands under my underwear to cup my butt. I ground up against his erect cock and took it between my thighs for a moment, sliding against his perfect naked form.

“Yes, Steve,” I groaned, wishing I could take him inside me, cradle him, love him.

“I want you so much,” he whispered into my mouth.

“Me too, but…”

He groaned, as if in pain.

“I’m gonna make it better,” I whispered, drawing away from him.

“Dani, honey…”

“Just tell me if you don’t like this, okay?” I asked, settling down between his legs. I drew my hips down so that my feet were tucked beneath my butt, and slid a hand up his thigh, making a breathy cry come out of his mouth. He didn’t say anything, so I took that as a cue that he wanted more. I slid my hand around the base of his shaft and slid my hand up to the head of his cock, feeling the silky hardness. I tried to be careful, not to do too much to him, in case we had a repeat of a few days earlier. I felt him get harder, and I swirled my thumb over the head of his cock to loosen up the bead of precum coming out of the tip and rub it all over. The noises coming out of his mouth indicated he liked what I was doing. His hand found the top of my head and fingers knotted into my scalp as I pumped the length of his cock a few more times, and it was hard and ramrod straight. I took this as an opportunity to run my tongue up a line under his cock slowly to torture him before parting my lips to take his cockhead into my mouth as gently as possible.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he pleaded.

“I wanted to draw it out,” I admitted. I cupped my upper lip over my upper teeth and ran my tongue over my lower ones and took the head of his cock into my mouth fully, swirling my tongue over it. His hand tightened in my hair, and it started to hurt. “Steve, stop!” I cried.

“What?”

“Your hand,” I said, grabbing his offending wrist. “You could pull my hair out of my head.”

“I’m sorry,” he panted, letting go. “You were just…”

“I’m not done,” I said, taking his cock back into my hand, pumping it again, gently grazing my fingertips over his balls. I took him back into my mouth and drew my mouth down, using my tongue to draw swirls around the underside of his dick, listening to his moans and cries as I hummed softly for vibration in the back of my throat to touch his cock. I hollowed my cheeks, giving gentle sucks, and tried to draw him down, deeper into my throat until my nose was in the edges of his pubic hair. For all the times Chad told me I sucked at sex, I had worked hard to get good at blow jobs, I had read and researched how to give good ones, although I hoped Steve would be happy if I didn’t want to give them all the time. I held him there until my gag reflexes indicated too much, finally. The way he moaned my name was a drug.I cupped his balls with my freehand and kneaded them with a gentle touch. I pulled back, pumping his cock again before taking him in again, and realized I was getting a markedly different reaction out of him. I alternated pumping with my hand and sucking with my mouth until I could feel his muscles contracting, and I saw his lower abdomen flex.

With a sharp, strangled cry, Steve shot his wad into my mouth, hot and salty and I heard the rip of fabric nearby.

I held his cum in my mouth for a moment as I sat up tasting it, hand over my lips.

I climbed out of the bed to spit into the toilet before rinsing my mouth, tugging my panties back up over my cheeks.

“Dani, that was incredible, like… like I’m… like I’m floating,” Steve was rambling.

“Good,” I said as I spat out the water. “It’s supposed to be that way.” I took a swig of mouthwash to swish around my mouth before gargling, and wet down a washcloth to wipe the sweat off me before coming into the bedroom while Steve was still running his mouth.

“Baby,” I said, flipping on the bedside lamp. “Did you just rip my top sheet?”

“Huh? I uh…” He glanced down; there were two rumpled fistfuls of sheets on either side of his hips, and shredded fabric. He blushed, being completely naked in front of me in the light. He didn’t have anything to be ashamed of in my book. “I guess I did.”

“Good thing it was the sheets and not my hair,” I teased, taking the washcloth to wipe him off.

“Good foresight,” he agreed.

“I’m going to take a shower, I’ll try to be quick,” I said, grabbing my bullet from the nightstand. I realized his cock was starting to stir again. “Steve, I just finished you! Are you kidding me?”

“I um…” his face was almost crimson.

“I’m not doing that again tonight.”

“You were so good,” he admitted in the most earnest tone. “I can’t help it.”

 

* * *

 

After my shower and method of getting off, I came back into the bedroom, and he laid under the covers in the dark. “Are you awake?” I asked, climbing under the covers, wearing my old UT Homecoming t-shirt to sleep in.

“Yeah. What was that thing you took out of your nightstand?”

“A bullet,” I said.

“Like ammunition?” He asked, confused.

“No, it’s a very small vibrator, when I’m worked up it helps some to get off.”

“You mean like…?” He voice trailed off.

“It helps to orgasm.”

“You... _do_ that?” he asked, horrified.

“Oh please. Don’t act like you didn’t do it in the shower at Christmas.”

A strangled noise erupted from his mouth and he avoided my eyes.

“The old adage is ‘everybody does it, but nobody talks about it,’” I assured him. “How do you tell me what you like if you have no idea what that is?”

“Uhh… I’m a good Catholic boy.”

I laughed, and then he did, too. “I defiled you! I’m going to hell!”

“Okay, fine. But you have to keep it to yourself.”

“I will, as long as you don’t talk about me, either.”

“Funny, all I heard was women were impossible to get to that point.”

“Oh trust me, we have needs. We might play it off like we don’t, but we do. And, there is a point of no return for women. So…. do you want to see the bullet?” I asked.

He didn’t respond, but sat up. I got the bullet out of the nightstand and took his hand, placing it in his palm. He looked at it in the darkness and I turned it on for him. It lit up on one end and buzzed and rolled around on his palm. I saw the edges of his mouth quirk up in surprise. “How does it work?” He asked shyly. I saw the boyish features of his face in his awe.

“Depends on where you use it,” I admitted. I changed it to pulsing. “I usually use this on my clit.”

“Your... what?”

“You’ve never heard of a clitoris?”

“Um, yeah, I didn’t understand what you said, I thought you meant like a bullet clip for a gun.” He chuckled nervously. “I thought it was just a myth. They talked about it in the Army.”

“Well, figures. The clitoris was never fully discovered and mapped out the late 90s.”

“Yeah, I missed that.”

“I’ll show you where it is next time,” I said. “No offense, but I don’t want you near that part of me until my period’s over.”

“You are a mystery to me, Danielle.”

“Do you like mystery?"

"A little bit,” he said softly, leaning forward to press his lips against mine. “I don’t want to let you go right now.”

I had never had a man be so sweet to me after a sex act. He wanted to hold me and talk, he kept pressing soft kisses along my shoulders. I started dozing off, and I remember vaguely telling him I wasn’t going to stay awake much longer.

In the morning we got up to make breakfast and admire the snow that made my apartment complex's grubby courtyard look new and pretty, but very quickly ended up back in bed. He was eager at the idea of me loving him with my mouth. He was new and exciting- very exciting, having a body that went on for days, an eagerness to listen to me and learn. His dick was surprisingly keen and hastened to quick recovery to my touch and my mouth. I had never had a man listen so intently to my instruction before. I kissed up and down his chest, pushing his t-shirt up until I got to his happy trail. He was so beautiful. I felt like he’d protect me and I liked this feeling. I hoped Steve’s pure heart never changed, even though he had moments of self-doubt and self-criticism.

After we got up for good, I started making black-eyed peas for good luck in the new year. “I’ve never heard that one,” Steve said, with Lourdes Marie purring in his lap.

“I make them Greek-style with vinegar.”

“Why are you making them 'Greek-style'?”

“Oh, my momma’s Greek,” I said. “This is how she makes things: lemon, olive oil, or vinegar on vegetables, take your pick. Her parents immigrated to the US after World War II and had her and three other kids. I’m half Greek, you know.”

“No, you’re American. Of Greek descent.”

“True. But I could claim citizenship in Greece if I wanted to,” I said.

“You’re really pale for someone who’s Greek-descended.”

“My family is from the mountains, there are some blondes and redheads, like Lauren. That’s why I have green eyes.”

“You do,” he said. “The best Greek food is in Astoria in Queens. Great gyros there. And the potatoes were amazing. I’ll take you there when you come up.”

“In a full kitchen, I can make really good koulourakia.”

“Those are?”

“A shortbread cookie. My Yía Yía taught me how to make them before she died. And baklava and spanakopita. And kourabiedíes. Momma didn’t bake much.”

“You can’t make them here?”

“I’ve tried, but my oven doesn’t heat evenly,” I admitted. “And it starts smoking, no matter what I do, and sets off the smoke alarm. It’s awful.”

“When you come see me next, try it,” he said. “My oven’s pretty new. A little too technologically advanced for an old man like me."

“Deal. Wanna try the black eyed peas now?” I lifted the serving spoon. He came over behind me and accepted the bite.

“Interesting,” he remarked as he swallowed. He slipped behind me, resting his head atop mine. “I’d have hated this as a kid, but I kind of like it, now.”

"You better eat this!"

"I will, I will, promise!"

As I finished the spinach and put lemon juice and olive oil on it, my phone rang. “Nia!” I cried, answering.

“Hey, girl,” she said, “I haven’t heard from you since Thanksgiving!”

“I’m sorry,” I moaned. “I’m a horrible friend.”

“No, you’re not,” she said. “I know you had finals and then work. I had it, too, they worked me half to death at the law office.”

“How have you been?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

“Oh, I’m great,” I said. “I met somebody, and he’s hanging out with me today.”

“Really,” Nia said, knowingly. “I want to know all about him!”

I laughed. “Okay, so he’s sitting right beside me,” I replied. “And we were going to sit down to some spinach and black eyed peas for good luck in the new year. Wanna come over and have some?”

“Oh, no, I got mine, too! Well, the reason I called was I wanted to have a last hurrah here in DC. I got the paralegal position in the New York branch of my law office.”

“You did?” I cried. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Yeah, we’re going to meet at the Chute in Roslyn on the fourteenth for drinks and dancing,” she said. “I want you to come. Bring your new boy toy.”

“Let me check my schedule,” I said, opening my phone’s calendar. It showed that I was planning a weekend with Steve in New York because he wasn’t on call. “Irony: I’m going to New York to see Steve that weekend.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised. “If you want to reschedule-” he began. I waved my hand.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she said, knowingly. “I understand. It’s long distance, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“I’ve done it before. Hey, I’m going down to the Chute anyway tonight.”

“It’s open?” I was stunned.

“Oh yeah! Come and dance! There’s no cover tonight!”

“Guess where we’re going tonight,” I told Steve when I hung up with Nia.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around this long!  
> XOXO,  
> Blue


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, y'all... I'm having the most stressful day, especially with school. I'm going to drive myself crazy, and I probably shouldn't be posting, but I really like posting sex, and we're close to it with the story. I had to work my way up to it because honestly, sex doesn't just happen immediately when you're dating a virgin and building a relationship.

Steve and I went to the Chute that night, and I wore my sequined dress with my black winter booties.

“When I tell you to wear a coat, I’m not kidding,” Steve complained as I was shivering beside him as we trekked up to the entrance (there was no line!) for the bouncer to let us in. I hadn’t been out of the Uber for long, but the cold bit into my clothes immediately. Steve had shed his leather bomber jacket and wrapped me up in it to protect me.

“I wasn’t going to pay coat check, that’s a ripoff!” I cried through chattering teeth as we got inside. “I didn’t even bring a purse!”

“Like I wouldn’t watch your things.”

“I’d never subject you to holding my purse,” I smirked as went further in to try to find Nia, who was at the bar, chatting with some of the dancers.

She squealed and ran up to hug me. “You look so cute!” she shrieked. “Where did you get the dress? And is this him?”

Steve laughed, embarrassed. “This is Steve, and yes,” I said. “This is my boyfriend.”

“How do you do?” Steve asked, politely.

Nia giggled in his direction. “Oh my, you are really something! Are the two of you going to come out with me on the dance floor?”

“You know I’m game,” I said, eyes light up.

“She’s the dancer, not me,” Steve said. “I’m going to make friends with the bartender.”

“Alright,” Nia said.

We went out onto the dance floor and started dancing to _Would I Lie To You?_ by the Eurythmics. I loved when Nia and I got to dance together, she had some moves, and I felt free to let it all out.  We danced for about four more songs before we took a break. “You have tell me about him,” she said as we went to the unisex bathroom. It was mostly empty. This was how I had gotten past my fear of peeing where men could hear it.

“He’s from New York, his parents were Irish immigrants, he’s in the Army, and he’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had,” I said.

“Girl, my gaydar’s going off. He’s not like your _boyfriend_ boyfriend, more like a gay boyfriend?”

“No,” I laughed, coming out of the stall to wash my hands. “He wasn’t gay last night. Or this morning!”

She burst out laughing. “Girl, you move fast!”

“Oh please, I met him here at this club months ago!” I cried.

“No you didn’t!” she shrieked.

“Yes, I did,” I said. “You remember when we were dancing in those cages in October and Larry kicked us out? I tripped on the way out and fell into his arms.”

“That is too cute, but I really mean _too cute_. Not in a good way.”

“Why’s that?”

“You met him in a _gay bar_! What was he doing in a _gay bar_?”

“Hey, I’m straight and I come to gay bars. He just came with his friends that night to get a break from cougars groping his ass, which is quite fun to grab onto, might I add.”

“Well, if you say so,” she replied. “You’ve kissed girls before!”

I blushed. “I was only curious,” I said. I had indeed been curious: while I was still a virgin when I was in college, and I wanted to figure out if I was more attracted to girls than guys, so gave kissing a girl a try. But I hadn’t felt anything when a pretty girl had kissed me at a bar while we were playing spin the bottle in the loft at Hanna's Cafe in Knoxville. “I don’t think threesomes are in our immediate future.”

“Well, that could be fun,” Nia admitted. “Two guys at once.”

“I can’t even imagine that,” I muttered.

Nia and I checked on Steve, and he was enjoying a whiskey and talking to a drag queen.

 _He’s so polite and friendly,_ I thought. I was so proud of my perfect gentleman. Who knew you had to go back to the forties to find them?

“Hey, Dani,” he said. “You’re having a good time?”

“I’m having a great time,” I said.

He squeezed my elbow, pulling me close.

“I’m about to go on,” the drag queen said. She was tiny and delicate, and her voice was so high-pitched and her accent so British, she had to pass. She reminded me of Courtney Act from _RuPaul’s Drag Race_. “I hope all of you stay to see me perform.”

“Of course,” Steve said. “Dani, this is Sheila. Sheila, this is my girlfriend, Danielle.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” I said.

“And, I know Nia!” Sheila cooed, Nia rushed into her arms and they air-kissed each other’s cheeks. “You were really working it out there, girly!”

“Always,” Nia said, beaming, tossing her locks of hair over her shoulders.

“Well, I have to be going, it’s almost call time!”

“See you on stage!” Nia called.

She sauntered off.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to dance with us?” Nia asked Steve.

“Oh, I’m sure. I’ll make a fool of myself,” he replied. “But I definitely want to stay for Sheila’s performance. I hope you don’t mind that I was talking to her.”

“Oh no,” I said, grinning. “I don’t mind.”

“Go dance,” he said, shooing me away. Kylie Minogue’s _A Million Miles_ came on, and Nia and I ran out to the dance floor to shake our asses like it was our job.

Nia and I danced to a few more songs before the lights went out and Sheila LaBien was announced. The spotlight came on and Sheila was standing in the middle of the stage in a holographic silver leotard, sequin leg warmers, and new a space-age-looking wig, dead serious and she started dancing and lipsyncing to _Sexy! No, No, No!_ by Girls Aloud. I loved this about Drag.

By the time she had lip-synched and danced to three different songs, she took a break.

I went back to the bar to find Steve, who had my white wine spritzer waiting for me. “This was a great way to start out the New Year,” I admitted, downing the last of my spritzer. “But I am exhausted. Can we go home, now?”

“Here,” he said, getting a five out of his wallet. “Go tip Sheila, and I’ll close out the bar tab and call the Uber.”

I put the money into the giant Courvoisier tipping glass by the stage, and the stage manager nodded towards me. I promised to visit Nia in Brooklyn when I went up to see Steve and we hugged goodbye. Steve wrapped his bomber jacket around me as we went out the door, and I waved to Nia, blowing her a kiss.

“I think we definitely need to have dinner with Nia when you come up to visit me. Do you mind if I call her and show her around the city and take her out for a meal when she moves up to New York?”

“That is really sweet of you to offer, I don’t mind at all. So how was your second Drag Show at the Chute?”

“It feels like I’m at a show on Broadway, but kind of like I’m being cheated.”

“Cheated? How?”

“They’re not actually singing,” he said.

“Well, traditionally, Drag Queens _don’t_ sing,” I said.

“I wonder if Sheila could sing at all,” he pondered.

“Trust me, even if she did, she wouldn’t do it here.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” I repeated. "Because she's on stage and performing? And I don't perform anymore?"

“You don't have anything to worry about. Look, she was really pretty, but from a distance. She wore way too much makeup up close for my tastes. And besides, most women in gay bars are probably lesbians anyway.”

“Um, Steve-”

“Don’t be jealous, we were just talking. I like _you_. You look so natural and pretty, you don’t need make-up-”

“I _am_ wearing make-up-”

“But you can hardly tell. She looked like a clown, and for me-”

“Steve, that wasn’t a woman.”

“You’re joking!”

“No. Honey… She was a he. Drag is an art form-“

“You could have told me!” he said loudly and a little too seriously. I realized he was pulling my chain. He burst out laughing. I realized I had underestimated him and his pop culture knowledge, and in my embarrassment, I mimed shaking a fist at him but didn’t swing.

“That wasn’t funny, Steven!” I cried, trying not to laugh in embarrassment. "I'm gonna kill you!"

“We had drag queens back in the forties, don’t act so surprised,” he chided. “And besides, she had an Adam’s Apple. Dead giveaway! I’m not that naive when it comes to the 21st century, Danielle!”

“Okay, I’m sorry. You… _might_ be smarter than I give you credit for,” I said slowly and reluctantly.

“After all you said about gender roles and toxic masculinity, you can’t admit that you’re wrong,” Steve snorted.

“And somebody’s going to be sleeping on the floor if he doesn’t shut up.”

We ran out the door once Steve got the notification that our Uber was here. I slipped my arms around his middle and buried my face into his chest. Steve’s free hand rubbed my back.

I loved being close to him. He was perfect.

We pretty much ran back to my apartment complex in the cold, the walkways cleared and salted. The perfect layer of snow in the courtyard was now grubby and grey with foot and dogprint tracks all in it. Someone had built a snowman, but it was looking pretty pathetic by now.

“Am I still sleeping on the floor?” he asked as I fumbled with my keys.

“No,” I said through chattering teeth, even though I was wearing his jacket.

“Hurry up, I’m freezing!”

The deadbolt lock finally clicked and the door swung open. His arms encircled me and he gently shoved me through the door with his torso. I twisted my own torso around to kiss him and turned my hips around to face him as he shoved the door shut behind us.

“I’ve got you all to myself at least,” he murmured between kisses, his eyelids hooded as I glimpsed him. His jacket slipped off my shoulders and fell to the floor, then I felt him unzipping my dress from the back, but his fingers lost the zipper tag. I giggled as he struggled to get my zipper, and an annoyed look ran across his face. “I was trying to be smooth,” he admitted.

“You're perfect to me,” I said, grinning, catching his mouth in another kiss. His hand snaked up my neck to cradle my head as we kissed some more and he guided me backward until the back of my knees encountered the mattress. He lowered me down onto the bed, gazing down at me with nothing but affection and care. He pulled his sweater up over his head, pulling his white t-shirt off, exposing his perfect torso.

I reached behind myself and unzipped my dress so I could pull the sleeves and bodice down, exposing my bra. “Come here,” I said as he unbuttoned his khakis, scooting myself back on the bed, my dress sliding down my legs, leaving me in my lingerie and a set of thigh-highs.

Steve climbed onto the bed next to me, and took me into his arms, kissing me. “Just one more night,” he said.

“Alright,” I replied.

We kissed some more, and his free hand drifted up to my breast, grazing my bra cup. “I didn’t ask,” he whispered, drawing his hand away.

I took his wrist in mine, and gently held it to my bra cup. “I’ll give you a pass this time,” I teased. We kept on kissing, but I tried to unhook my own bra, wriggling and twisting around. “I’ve got it,” I insisted when he pulled away. “I got it.” I whipped my bra off, even in the cool room, my skin was getting chill bumps, and my nipples hardening. “You can touch me,” I said softly.

His hands slid up my ribs back to my breasts, and his eyes fluttered closed, head leaning back, lip slightly apart. My breasts tingled at the contact. “Steve,” I whispered.

“Too much?” he asked, his thumbs grazing my nipples, that hardened at the touch, eyes opening.

“No, perfect,” I mumbled, running hands over his.

In his arms, I didn’t feel so insecure about my body. The way he looked at me felt like I wasn’t wrong, I didn’t need work, I could just be myself.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. This would have been a perfect moment for it, but then again… it was too soon. It didn’t feel right.

He rubbed my nipples a little harder with his thumbs, his grip hardening a little. I arched into him.

He slipped an arm around me and pulled me up against him. We kissed some more, and I felt the bulge in his shorts poking me in the leg. He pulled me up and rolled me over onto my back, on top of me, pressing sloppy kisses down my neck. “I love these moments with you,” he muttered. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to, either,” I admitted. “You can’t stay?”

“No,” he muttered. “Let’s make a plan for you to come to New York,” he said, getting up. “I want to take these off you.” His fingers grazed the elastic tops of my thigh-highs. His finger ran under one of them, hooking it. I smirked at him.

He slid the stocking down my leg slowly. I pointed my toe in the air, and he took a moment to kiss my ankle, working the stocking off slowly. I was thankful I had shaved my legs. He kissed my knee as I lowered my foot, and went to work on the other leg.

“You are so beautiful, Dani,” he said, gazing down at me as he climbed atop me. His lips met the tiny bow on the top of my panties, and I wished I could take them off. Technically, I could, but I didn’t want him seeing the gross truths about feminine hygiene. I had always been strange about sex, it took a lot of warming up to get me into it. But Steve had me going so easily.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I muttered. He cupped my breast again and caught my nipple in his mouth. I gasped and writhed beneath him as he gently sucked. My fingers found their way into his scalp, encouraging him. “Yes,” I sighed as his fingers pinched the damp, hard peak.

“Our time together is always so short,” he admitted, into my breast.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I guess this is the hard part of being in a long-distance relationship. We have horrible timing, don’t we?” I asked, thinking about how I wasn’t able to make love with him at all tonight. He was not ready for period sex, I had to be honest.

“It’s not been all bad,” he said, a smirk crossing his face, his body blanketing mine.

“You’re right,” I admitted, slipping my hands down the small of his back, under the waistband of his shorts, tugging them south, his ass in my hands. “Lay down.”

I could see the line of his perfect abs in the dark as I sat up. “I want you. This has been the best new year of my life.”

“Mine too,” I admitted, walking the tips of my fingers down his abs.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” I admitted as he lifted his hips and pushed his shorts off. His cock was already hot and hard. I reached over to the nightstand and got the flavored lube out, squirting some into my fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. “Let’s not be hasty. I want to go slow tonight.” I cupped the base of his shaft, and I could hear how rapid his breathing was. His eyes were closed. This gave me reason to slid my hand, wrapped around it, upwards, my other hand taking its place. I wasn’t that good with handjobs, according to Chad, but I was willing to give it another go. I alternated hands with the lube making it so much easier. His breathing was my measure for how to touch him, I took the tip of his cock and ran my fingers over it, swirling them around. He was getting so hard, I couldn’t help it: I took it back into my mouth, using my tongue to swirl around the head. I didn’t mind the taste of his precum for some reason, probably that I was so wrapped up in the moment.

“Dani,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Cum for me,” I whispered, popping his cock out of my mouth.

“You’re so dirty,” he muttered.

I took him back in, and took him in deep this time, bringing him further down my throat, listening to his groans and cries, working him up.

“Cum for me, please,” I begged, pumping his slick cock a few times.

I saw his muscles contract. “Dani!” he shouted, and his cock shot out three spurs of the white liquid, partially getting it on my arm, the third one on my breast. “Danielle…” He was panting, coming down, shaking. I got some tissues from my nightstand to wipe off. “I made a mess on you,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

“You’re supposed to,” I admitted. “I don’t mind.” I handed him a fresh tissue.

“Why did we take so long to start doing this?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, if I get flamed, I'm not going to make a fool of myself and respond.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely not for the kiddos! I've got two major tests this week, yikes! This is keeping me sane. I hope you enjoy!

I got up from the bed and turned on the space heater in the wall in the bathroom and I got out a fresh washcloth to wet down with hot water.

In the bedroom, Steve looked almost high as I came back to wipe him off.

“My sweet Dani,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “You surprise me every time.”

“You too,” I said softly, feeling the chill in the air. “Let me get the space heater lit.” I grabbed my pajama t-shirt and put it on before lighting the tea light.

Steve was still on top of the covers. I tugged on the covers and pulled them back. “I think you were worth waiting for,” he said.

“Get under the covers, I’m freezing!” I cried. “You make feel like I have nothing to hide from you.”

He groaned and got up to get his discarded shorts. “You don’t... you’re perfect. I keep feeling terrible I’m not going to be able to give back what you’ve been giving me.”

“You liked the hand jobs?”

“Of course."

“I was told I was terrible at them.”

“Chad’s a bastard.”

“Language, Captain Rogers!” I cried, mock-offended.

He chortled. “Well, that’s the appropriate term. If I ever meet him, I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll give him a knuckle sandwich.”

We both laughed. “Come back to bed, Steven,” I said, rubbing the empty spot in the bed as he went to the bathroom.

“Just a second. I’ve got to take time for good oral hygiene.”

“Ugh, now I need to brush my teeth… again,” I muttered, feeling like a slob for not doing so before climbing back into bed.

“You’re tired,” he said, running the faucet. “And I’m ready for a snooze.”

“Me too. But first… I want to talk about something.”

“Yeah?”

“When you’re done,” I said.

He brushed his teeth quickly and came to bed, kissing me on the cheek, nuzzling into me. “What did you want to talk about, doll?”

“I want to use protection our first time.”

The mood suddenly snapped. “Dani, why are you bringing that up?”

“Pregnancy and STDs are no joke.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me? That had to do with Chad?”

“No, I’m clean. But I’m only on the pill, and we need a secondary form of birth control as back up. I’m not ready for a baby, and that would be the worst mistake.”

“I’m not… Dani, we’re Catholic. Both of us. We’re not supposed to use birth control or condoms.”

“I’m not taking a chance. The rhythm method isn’t a good birth control. And I’m not taking Plan B as a backup unless I absolutely have to.”

“Isn’t that the abortion pill? No way am I going to let you-”

“It’s not an abortion pill, it keeps you from ovulating so you don’t get pregnant. I’ve taken it before and it’s awful, but what would be worse is having a baby when we didn’t plan on it. Steve, listen: it’s not that I don’t want to have a baby ever, I just don’t want to have a baby  _right now_. But I  _do_ want to be close with you. You’re not supposed to be this young and alive right now, I don’t think God will mind if we use birth control and condoms. And the only reasons that’s being pushed is the Vatican and years of controlling women and their bodies. We  _literally_ cannot afford to risk having a baby right now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Imagine having to tell my father that you knocked me up.”

“I’ve never met your father.”

“He’d be heartbroken, especially when I’m made all this effort to go to grad school. Trust me. That is not the opening conversation you want to have with him the first time you meet.”

“If you say so.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m exhausted, I want to go to sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Stevie.”

* * *

Steve and I had another beautiful morning in bed together before I had to help him pack up and sent him off to New York on the train. I kind of hurt when we hugged goodbye for the last time (we had our goodbye kiss in private) and he climbed up the train steps into the car. I found him at the train window and waved at him as the train departed, like in the 1940s when girls said goodbye to their soldiers to send them off to war.

I hated that Steve and I were finally getting intimate, and I had to get back into school and work and him to New York to be on call. When he got home, he called me and we looked at our schedules when we’d both be off later in February and for him to come to DC sooner. We decided he’d come back to DC a week from Wednesday when he wasn’t on-call. I’d be working and going to school, but we’d have some time together.

The truth was, I wanted to jump his bones just as much as he did mine. The passion part of our relationship was currently overwhelming; all I wanted was to ride him and do dirty things to him, and hopefully him to me. My first night alone in the new year, I was too worked up to sleep after our phone call. Missing him was too intense.

First times were usually kind of quick and awkward, and I couldn’t fault Steve for that, but I had kind of warmed him up to learning. I knew he’d be open to listening to me. I needed to listen to him, too, although I had braved oral right away. It would take time for us to have good sex where it wasn’t a novelty, I hoped.

It was in my Marital Relations class that I realized how different my relationship with Steve was. He listened to me. Chad had never listened. I opened up my phone after class and got out the pictures of Chad and me together. I started realizing how bad a relationship it had been. It wasn’t just that Chad had stopped opening doors and pulling out chairs for me after a while, it was just didn’t pay attention to me. He had stopped “chasing” me. Steve’s pursuit of me hadn’t waned in all the time we had been together, over three months, but Chad and I had had sex only six weeks after we met. Steve and I hadn’t officially crossed that benchmark, yet. I feared that Steve would lose interest in me if we weren’t sexually compatible in the long term.

Then, I realized it was just my depression talking.

We had something important. He spoke in the long term and had been the first to call me his girlfriend. He wrote letters to me by hand so that it was private and just between us and unhackable. We sent each other letters, even though we ended up talking on the phone at least once a day.

And I had to stop comparing Steve to Chad. They were like two totally different species that shouldn’t be compared at all. And that warmed my heart, that I could have a relationship that quieted my “eating disorder” voice in my head and made my life richer. I longed to introduce Steve to my family, to welcome him in. God knows he missed having people to anchor himself to.

During the ballroom class on Tuesday night, Berney came alone, so I took him on as my partner to Instruct through. “How lucky am I, getting to dance with a pretty young girl?” He asked.

I blushed. “Any class you want, I’ll dance with you,” I said, and he spun me, grinning.

I saw something I hadn’t wanted to see: the line of a tattoo on his arm, peeking out from under his shirt cuff.

I knew Berney was Jewish, and older. I had never considered he might be a Holocaust survivor.

There was no reason to point it out, though.

At the end of class, I have Berney a hug. “Thanks for coming out for class.”

He gestured for me to come closer. “I never wanted to tell you this, but you remind me of my wife,” he said. “You have her coloring when we met, did you know that?”

“I do?”

“That’s what keeps this old man coming back,” he said, patting my shoulder. “You bring back good memories, Danielle.”

“It’s nice to hear that.” I kissed him on the cheek.

“I come all the way to DC and find you kissing other men?”

“Steve?” I cried, hearing his voice. I whirled around to see him filling up the doorframe, grinning. “I’ll be right back,” I told Berney. I ran to him, launching myself into him for a hug. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow! Did you get off early?”

“DC’s still a major metropolitan, it’s easy to commute from,” he said, shrugging. He looked over my shoulder. “I want to meet my competition.”

I took his hand to bring him over to Berney. “Berney, I’d like for you to meet my boyfriend, this is Steve Rogers,” I said.

“Nice to meet ya!” Berney said, and shook Steve’s hand. “Where ya from, Steve?”

“Brooklyn, in New York.”

“I actually spent some time in New York in the fifties,” Berney said. “My brother-in-law is from there, and he came back after being in the service, and he didn’t want to leave.” Berney had a way of telling stories that captivated most people. Steve paid attention to him, and didn’t look away as Berney told the whole story about his brother-in-law, a shoemaker. I admired that about Steve: he could give someone all his attention. “... that’s how Esther and I met on Coney Island, and we were married within a week, and we stayed together for fifty-five years before she passed away.”

“I always find it amazing when people have marriages that span the decades,” Steve admitted.

“Don’t let him let you think he’s lonely, though, he brings a new partner every week!” I said.

“The nice thing about being a widower in my eighties is all the pretty ladies at my retirement village!” Berney said, conspiratorially. I laughed.

“I’m starving,” Steve said, “I’m going to get something to eat and drag Dani along. Berney, would you like to join us?”

“Oh, no, it’s almost my bedtime. I’ve got get a taxi home. You two kids have fun.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Steve said. “I hope I’ll see you again.”

“Let me know your next stand up show, we’ll come,” I said.

“I missed your class,” Steve said once Berney was gone and I turned off the lights and picked up my satchel bag. “You know, I always wanted to learn how to dance. I never did.”

I set down my satchel. “Come here,” I said, turning on Jo Stanford’s  _Sunny Side of the Street_ on my iPhone. “It’s actually kind of easy,” I admitted. “The basics, at least.” I took his left hand and put it on my shoulder, then his right, placing it on my shoulder blade under my arm. “Now, strong left arm,” I said. “And posture.”

Steve’s spine straightened.

And I was suddenly so turned on, blame it on  _Strictly Ballroom._

But first, dancing…

“Okay… Okay,” I said more to shake myself out of the daydream I was having about him. “First step, “ I said, straightening my own spine, and lifting myself onto the balls of my feet to step backward with my left foot. He followed with his right foot, and I showed him the triple set to the side and the rock back. “Feel the rhythm?”

“Yeah.”

I started teaching him the simple triple liddy in East Coast Swing style, which he picked up. He did just fine when I started leading in traveling. “Okay, can you feel me leading? It’s not my job to lead, it’s yours, I want you to try,” I said. I stopped leading, and Steve picked it up. “You’re a natural!”

“I’m staring at my feet. And yours.”

“Let’s try the brush turn,” I said.

We stayed for another half hour or so, he learned so much. I might have been able to take him out with a little more practice, but his stomach started growling. After a few hashbrown bowls at the Waffle House, Steve and I made our way back to my apartment.

“Okay, world events seem pretty calm right now, and I am on call until midnight east coast time,” he said as we caught the Metro back to my neighborhood. “I’m turning my S.H.I.E.L.D. phone off at midnight and I’m not looking at it again until Thursday night.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. And that I have you all to myself tonight,” I admitted, picking up the last of my things and putting my coat on. I had dreamed of doing all sorts of pervy things to him once he got here, but in all honesty, I hadn’t shaved my legs since the last time he left DC. I needed a shower to get ready for him— badly. “But I want to take a shower, first.”

“You get first dibs. I also got a present for you.”

“You did? What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a present!”

“Tell me!”

“Stop whining.”

“Hey!”

We laughed.

In my apartment, he got out a box of something wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper from his duffel.

“Here ya go. No more whining.”

I accepted it and stuck out my tongue at him. Tearing the paper off. I discovered he had gotten me twelve hundred thread count sheets. My own sheets were maybe eight hundred. “You bought me new sheets!” I cried, delighted. “Good ones, too! Better than the ones I have!”

“To replace the one I ruined. I promise, no more grabbing things in the heat of the moment,” I said, elated that he thought about it. It was so perfect and thoughtful, I almost cried.

“They’re beautiful!” I admitted. “I love them, thank you!”

“Do you want to put them on the bed?”

“You’ve got to watch them first.”

He groaned. “I thought we could… break ‘em in, y’know?”

“We will eventually. I’m taking a shower,” I announced, grabbing a lacy bra and panty set in coral-pink color and slipping into the bathroom. In the post-Christmas sale at Victoria’s Secret, they had been cheap. I cranked the wall heater in the bathroom before getting into the shower.

As I came out of the bathroom, I pulled on my bathrobe as Steve came out of my kitchenette with a steaming hot mug of tea. He had already set up the terra cotta planter heater system and the room was warming up.

“You deserve this,” he said. “You’re a good dance teacher.”

“You are so sweet,” I accepted it and took a tentative sip. “There should be some hot water left in the shower. Hopefully, I didn’t use it all.”

He kissed me quickly. “Be right back,” and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

I sat down on the bed with Lourdes Marie and got out one of my school books. The first week was always the heaviest with reading assignments, and I still needed to catch up. Being downright horny didn’t help with my concentration no matter how many times I got my bullet out, and Steve was naked in the next room over, getting a shower. I think I read the same page 5 times before I realized I hadn’t absorbed a single thing. I put my book down and finished my mug of tea when Steve finally came out, his hair damp and combed, freshly shaved and in a t-shirt and pair of flannel grey pajama pants hanging loosely on his hips.

“Come to bed!” I cried.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he replied, tossing his dirty clothes into the laundry sack in his duffle.

I shed my bathrobe, flinging to the floor, and got under the covers.

He looked at me, and pulled his own shirt over his head with on hand, reaching to the back of his neck, and yanking it forward, before he climbed under the sheets, exposing his torso of perfection.

“You’re turning off the lights?” He asked.

“I… do you want them off?”

“I um…”

“How this?” I asked, switching off the lamp, and the room was filled with the dim light of Steve’s World War II heating system.

He sighed nervously. “You know, I thought this was going to be like going on auto-pilot. You know, I know all the technical stuff I’m ‘supposed to do, but the moment comes and… I don’t know, never mind.”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” I said. “Do you still want to do this?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Come here,” I whispered, reaching for him. I kissed his brow and began to stroke his hair. “We don’t have to do anything right away.”

I felt his muscles relax in my arms. I rocked him a little, and kissed his hairline a little more, rubbing his bare back.

“You look really pretty,” he said as I lazily kissed down his temple, to the corner of his jaw. “You always do.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you.”

I liked the feeling of his chest against mine, even if my bra was in the way. I ran a hand over his chest and looked into his eyes. I saw so many things swimming around in them. “It’s never too late to say no. I’ll listen,” I said.

His lips brushed mine. “I want this.”

He pressed his weight onto me and pressed me onto my back, kissing me gently. I pulled my arm up to wrap around his neck and pulled him into the kiss. His hands slid up my slides, cupping my ribs, molding my shoulder blades. He hesitated.

“You’re doing fine,” I assured him.

He kissed me to break the tension. I kissed him back, opening my lips, and I brushed my tongue gently against his lips. He met me back. We kissed for a while as our hands explored each other’s bodies, and I felt his cock poking out through his pajama pants. It was obvious he wasn’t wearing shorts, too as I rubbed his back. I slid my fingers under the waistband in the pants to discover hot, firm, bare skin of his ass, confirming my suspicions. He assisted me with pushing his pants off, leaving him naked in my arms, his cock against my leg.

I looked into his eyes again. “You’re okay?”

“I’m great.”

We continued kissing and he struggled to unhook my bra. I sat up, and he rolled into his side, and unhooked it for him, tossing it to the floor, and struggled with removing my panties under the covers while he reached for my breast. “Just a second,” I said softly, struggling, then getting my underwear off my legs, letting it join the bra on the floor.

I was terrified and excited all at once. As much as I wanted from this, my first time to have sex in over a year, I wanted it to be a good experience for him, first of all. I took his wrist and kissed his palm before placing it on my breast.

“I’ve got condoms in the nightstand,” I offered.

“I brought some, too,” he said, reaching for it. “Dani?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a little scared.”

“I am, too.”

“Really? Why?”

“What if I screw this up?”

“You won’t. It’ll be me messing things up.”

“Just lay down and relax. I’ll do what I can.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I kissed along this chest, but he stopped me, reaching over to the nightstand. He didn’t seem so interested in foreplay, unfortunately. He wanted to get straight to business. I guess I could give him that.

“There’s lube in the drawer, can you hand me that?” I asked.

He handed me the lube and I put a small squirt of it inside myself and stroked my clit a few times while he put the condom on beside me. He was trembling, his hands kept dropping the condom.

“Let me try?” I asked, sitting up.

He sighed shakily as I picked up the dropped condom.

“You know how to put one on, right?”

He nodded.

I pinched the tip of the condom, putting it on top of the head of his cock and got up on my knees, using my mouth to roll it down. The latex stretched out with his rigid member, groans escaping his lips as I to him into my mouth. “That’s how I like to do it,” I said, and pushed him down onto the mattress. I slid a leg over his hips to mount him and took his dick into my hand. His chest was heaving up and down, he had a hand over his eyes. “Let me make this easy,” I said softly. “You’re still okay?”

He nodded, gasping for air.

I slid down his cock, parting my slick inner lips with my first two fingers while bringing him inside me, and his hand flew off his face so he could watch. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I coaxed. “Take it easy.”

He was almost sobbing and sat up to hold me. I lifted myself up, riding his cock, and slid back down as his head leaned against my shoulder.

“You’re alright?” I asked.

“Y-yes,” he groaned.

I slipped my fingers down to my clit to stroke myself as I thrust up and down on him, he squeezed my torso in his arms. “Touch me, Steve,” I breathed. His hand gripped my right breast, and he lowered his head to take it into his mouth. “Yes!” I cried, feeling his tongue swirl around the tip. His mouth was hungry against my skin, but I felt him seize up, and then cum inside me. He cried out.

“Yes, that’s it… that’s it,” I said softly as his eyes went glassy and he heaved shaky breaths. I held him as he slowly laid back down onto his back.

We hadn’t lasted too long, but I hadn’t expected him to. It had been awkward, but special at the same time. Although virginity was a social construct, I had just dragged him into the world of sex.

I laid atop him as he tried to catch his breath. We didn’t talk, but I felt him go soft inside me. His warm hands roamed my back, stroking the skin covered in chill bumps.

As I felt him go completely flaccid, I finally got up on my knees and slid him out of me carefully. The condom he was wearing was a slick, wet mess, and I took it off him, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, disposing of it for him.

Steve still didn’t speak. He as still shivering a little bit.

I took the tissues to the bathroom to toss it and shut the door to pee. After a quick wipe off, I wet down a fresh washcloth with hot water to go into the main room to wipe him down, wearing my bathrobe.

In the main room, Steve was still laying naked atop the covers. Good, I needed to clean him up before he fell asleep. Waking up covered in dry sweat after sex was gross. “Are you okay?” I asked, wiping him off.

“Yeah. I’m amazing right now.”

I tossed the washcloth in the general direction of the bathroom and opened the nightstand drawer for my bullet, only to have him grab my wrist.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, holding my robe closed at the cleavage with my other hand.

“You didn’t...”

I could have lied. I could have said the way I came was quiet and hard to notice. Chad had conditioned me to give him what he hadn’t earned by shaming me and humiliating me. Steve hadn’t done that. There was no way I’d pretend and stroke his ego unnecessarily. That would have been unfair and dishonest. I owed him honesty: I shrugged and shook my head.

“I wasn’t any good?”

“It wasn’t about me tonight.”

“I wasn’t-“

“You were perfect,” I assured him before he even had the chance to vocalize it. He had been so vulnerable and honest and intimate with me, the quickness and the awkwardness didn’t bother me. It was endearing. He had trusted me not to be a bitch and make him feel bad. My words were the truth, though. He had gone above and beyond what Chad had done for me.

“But I didn’t make you…”

“Why are you asking?” I asked.

“You’re joking, right? I thought that was part of it.”

“I guess… I could have lied and faked it. But… you never lie to me. Even when you probably should have and I’d have excused it when I found out the truth.”

“I wasn’t as good as I wanted to be, then?”

“No, you were. I promise.”

“I’m not able to do that to you, then?”

“That remains to be seen,” I said. “We’re still earning each other. And our orgasms are harder to make happen sometimes than yours.”

“I thought…” he said glumly.

“Listen, I never have during sex before. I guess I just can’t  _during_ sex. If you want to work on it next time, maybe.”

“I didn’t know. I want to know how to. Can I, um…  _help_ with that?”

Chad had never cared about my end of sexual satisfaction until I complained about it. And then said I was needy and gave me a rocket vibrator to masturbate with on my own time, he said. It was a humiliation, so I had trained myself not to complain. It was adorable that Steve wanted to make sure I came, too. Sweet, too. Downright cute. I cupped his cheek and saw the sheer look of humility in his eyes.

He tugged the bathrobe off me, letting it pool to the floor at my feet, and guided me back into the bed. He took the bullet and turned it on, and it buzzed in his hand, lighting up. I could see him, flushed pink, even in the semi-darkness. “Can you show me how to do this?” he asked shyly.

It occurred to me that Steve had never seen a woman’s vagina in real life before. He was so pure-hearted I had the feeling he hardly knew what he was doing, the most intimate part of me was a mystery to him. I parted my legs slightly. He looked, mesmerized at my anatomy. That in itself turned me on as he took the bullet and ran it over my inner lips.

I gasped slightly at the intimate touch and the vibration against my lips.

“Right here,” I said, taking his hand holding the bullet by the wrist. He didn’t resist.

He rolled over onto his side and I slipped my arms around his shoulders to draw him in closer. The heat pooled between my legs and I felt the shiver of anticipation as the tiny vibrator buzzed enthusiastically against my clit. I gasped at the electric shock that reverberated through my body, arching against him. He caught my gasp with his mouth, kissing me. “More,” I begged. He partially rolled over on top of me and I felt my nipples graze his chest. I squeezed my eyes shut to prolong the feeling. I opened my eyes to see a smirk on his face. “It feels so good, touch me!” I begged.

“What?” A look of panic crossed his face.

I brushed the vibrator out of his hand and leg it vibrate away between my legs. “Right here,” I said, taking his thumb, placing it on my wet clit. “Right there, just…” I let go of his hand, and thumb brushed gently against the little nub. A strangled gasp came out of the back my throat. He sat up and I parted my legs more for him to see what he was touching. I felt his fingers brush my inner lips and press gently into my folds. “Oh, yes, I- please don’t stop!” I gasped, mewling like a kitten, my toes curling. He slipped a nervous finger inside me, making my back arch off the mattress and I shrieked. I didn’t even hear my neighbor banging on the wall telling us to shut up.

At my reaction, he slipped another finger into me, pumping them in and out. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” I said, feeling myself break out into a sweat. I was practically humping his hand, and I felt him slip a third finger inside me. “Too much!”

“Okay, okay,” he whispered to reassure me, going back down to two inside. He laid down again, hand still finger-fucking me, and pressed a few soft kisses along my shoulder.

I had been so lonely before I met him, alone with nothing but my cat in a dingey DC apartment, no hope of ever feeling loved and cared for ever again. Was this love? Or just hormones and endorphins? I couldn’t tell right at this moment.

He pressed a kiss to my lips, and I kissed him back eagerly, and his fingers curved inside me at just the right angle as his thumb stroked my clit, and came, gasping into his mouth, my legs clamping closed around his hand. I squeezed some, gasping in a quick succession.

This was real. Awkward, he was learning, but good at listening. And it was actually... good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may not agree with how I've written #VirginSteve having sex for the first time, but I wanted to be realistic with my own experiences and with my own research of what he'd have experienced with sexual attitudes and behaviors in the culture he grew up in. I didn't want him being a total dominant Cassanova his first time, because it's not realistic. Sex is usually awkward when you're first having it, even if you've been fooling around ahead of the event and you're a superhero. Let's be honest, who would actually be good their first time? I also tried to take into account that America in the 1920s and 30s was pretty prudish, especially for an Irish Catholic immigrant in how she'd raise her son to view women and sex, I'll go into this more later in the story. 
> 
> The Army did some sex ed during World war II, my research shows that they taught the soldiers how proper condom application and usage usually by sex ed films, Steve would have seen that. They did that because in World War I, the STD rates for soldiers were high when they came back from the European theater. In World War II, the soldiers were supplied condoms as well before going into battle. So that's why I wrote Steve knowing how to apply them and use one. Yes, I've been researching stuff for this fanfic. 
> 
> I hope you can respect that in my interpretation and my research.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got through my exams! Don't know if I passed the courses, though. Here's a mid-week update for y'all to enjoy, thank you for reading!  
> XOXO,  
> Blue

Steve wanted to hold me and talk after I came in his arms, but I was so high from orgasm endorphins, I was being claimed by sleep.

I woke up to Steve sketching me in the low light from the heating system, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. “What are you doing?” I mumbled, brushing my hair out of eyes.

“You look so pretty,” he said. “I want to remember this night forever.”

“I don’t know if I want to see it,” I admitted.

“I don’t know that I’d show you. Too embarrassing,” he said, flipping the sketch book closed.

“Now I want to see,” I complained. “I’ve seen your sketches before.”

“Only the stuff I think is good.”

“I’m proud of all your art,” I said, sitting up slowly.

“Just a second, don’t move,” he said flipping his sketchbook open again.

I felt like Rose in _Titanic_ as he sketched me naked.

“At least you didn’t sneak a naked picture of me on your phone,” I teased. I had been pretty furious when I found naked pictures of myself sleeping on Chad’s phone a few times and had deleted them before bitching him out.

“S.H.I.E.L.D hacks that all the time. I don’t want to share you with other people,” he said. I could hear the scratching of his pencil. “I want you all to myself.”

I had never posed nude and I wasn’t used to being naked around another person for so long at one period of time. I felt my nipples getting hard again in the cool air. I was terribly aware of my bare body in front of him, but I didn’t feel ashamed. Or self-conscious. The way Steve looked at me… He was the superhero, and here I was, thinking I was the powerless, wimpy and average human girl. But, it was dawning on me that I had a power over him. An incredible power.

“Perfect,” he said after I had been sitting in the bed for about twenty minutes.

“Let me see?” I asked, pulling the sheet up to my breasts.

He shook his head, and flipped the sketchbook shut. “No… it’s for me. So I can remember you when I’m alone in a big cold bed in New York.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “I’d like it to be me.”

“I can think of you so in so much detail in my mind when you’re not around. Even more of you, now.”

“Should I be embarrassed?,” I asked softly, laying back down in the bed.

“I’m never showing these to anybody. I’d never do that to you.” He put his sketch pad back into his duffel.

“How long was I asleep, baby?” I asked.

“An hour an half. Give or take.”

“I have tomorrow morning off from work,” I said seductively, stretching my leg a top the sheet, rolling over onto my stomach. “Come back to bed?”

He climbed into the bed, not breaking eye contact with me, a smile curving up the edges of his lips. “I can’t take my eyes off you,” he muttered, propping himself up on his fists in either side of my thighs. “I…” His smile faltered.

“Yes?”

“I am so happy you came into my life, Danielle,” he said softly. “This was the best night of my life so far. I understand now why you made me wait. Thank you for seeing past my flaws.”

“Virginity is not a flaw. And you don’t have to worry about it anymore. But are you trying to seduce me again?” I asked, arching an eyebrow and grinning.

“Well… yeah. Like you weren't just trying to bring me back to bed just now,” he closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss me.

I laid back into the bed, escaping his arms and the cover of the sheet. “I want to enjoy you, Stevie.”

He sat up, drawing the sheet off me slowly, as if I were a present he was unwrapping, seeing me naked again. He started up my body by pressing kisses to my knee, then to the point of my hip, then my belly button, he lingered over my breasts, and laid down atop me to kiss them, his hips rested between my legs, his lips brushing against my nipple, and I stroked his hair. He seemed to be a breast man. “Do I make you happy?”

“Yeah, you do,” I said, hooking the waist of his pants with my big toe, and I pushed them down his hips. He wriggled them off, I heard him kicking the end of my bed, and I closed my eyes, arching my back, to enjoy him pinching my nipples, kissing around them, sucking on them too. I wished I could feel this warm and safe all the time, always around him, never having to leave this apartment. If it was just us, I’d be happy.

I sat up in the bed to get another condom, and saw Lourdes Marie staring at us from the desk with a look of hate on her face, mostly because Steve was taking up the bed where she’d have usually slept.

“Lourdes Marie is giving us the stink-eye,” I said. “I think we’ve traumatized her!”

“Poor cat. I hope we traumatize her more. A _lot_ more,” he laughed.

I giggled, too, and let him climb up me to kiss me. We kissed for a while, holding each other, letting each other’s bodies mould to the other. His hand slid up my back, up my spine, holding my head. I loved it when he held my head while we kissed. My hands were getting familiar with his form, so much so that I could have picked him out by touch easily.

We didn’t have to hide from each other, especially right now. I felt his erection against the inside of my thigh again before he reached down and pumped his cock a few times.

“Let me do it this time,” he said as I tore open the condom pack. I handed it over to him and he got up on his knees between my parted legs. He looked so tempting.

“Can you wait a second?” I asked, sitting up, running my fingers down his washboards abs before he had a chance to put the condom on. He shivered, and I curved my fingers around his shaft. He didn’t resist, but his head leaned back as my fingers started stroking him. His cock was silky hardness against my palm. I wanted to feel his bare cock inside me, but I knew it was stupid to do so. I couldn’t risk a pregnancy right now.

“Oh God, Dani… that feels so good…” he whispered. His voice, so low and guttural, made me shiver. I reached up with my other hand to play with one of his nipples, and he groaned with sharp pleasure. Seeing him so erect and enjoying my touch… I shivered in anticipation. His hand closed over the mine around his cock. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer, where’s the rubber?”

“Right here,” I said, handing him the condom in the sheets, releasing him. He put it on, surprisingly well this time, his hands not shaking, but his breathing shallow and quick, and he bent his head down to kiss me, pushing me back onto my back.

“Hold on, let me try something,” I whispered, slipping my own fingers down between my legs, but he accidentally shoved his cock into the joint of my inner hip. “Wait!”

“Sorry!”

I slid my fingers between my lips and held myself open for him. “Okay, okay…”

He sighed softly, eyes shutting as his length entered me, filling me. He was so big, he stretched me a bit. “Oh!” I cried out, still not prepared for it.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, baby, it’s fine,” I groaned as he paused, hesitating.

He settled his weight on top of me, and starting slowly, tortuously pushing into me and slowly drawing it out just a little bit. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He continued to thrust in and out of me, and I slid my hand between us to stroke my clit in hopes I’d have an orgasm during sex this time. He started speeding up, grunting softly with every thrust of his hips, and I felt the friction building. I arched against him, and let him cum inside me, eyes squeezing shut, regardless that I hadn’t made it there, myself.

“Ah, God! Dani!”

“I know, I know, baby,” I whispered, digging my nails into his back with my free hand.

He cried out again, and I felt him pulse inside me. He didn’t say anything, just sighed, all the tension in his torso relaxing. I rubbed his back, giving up on an orgasm for now. He caught his breath as I pressed a few soft kisses to his shoulder, his breath tickling my neck.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you there… again.”

“It’s alright.”

“Where’s the bullet?”

“Somewhere in the sheets, I think,” I muttered as he pulled out of me. I grunted at the suddenly vacancy inside me.

“Dani, I…”

“Yes?”

“I want to tell you how I feel.”

“How do you feel, Steve?” I asked, suddenly aware he was saying something that wasn’t easy for him.

“I feel like.. I um…”

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything,”I whispered, reaching over to the nightstand for a tissue. “Tissue?”

“Yeah,” he said, accepting it, taking off the condom beside me. “Dani, I think I… I’m…” He had trouble forming words.

“Are you okay?” I asked, rubbing his enormous bicep with one hand, looking at his conflicted expression.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m happy I met you. And that you’re my first,” he finally said, picking up my hand to kiss my palm.

“Me too,” I admitted softly. We settled into the bed, and he spooned behind me, his hand slid between my legs, thumb brushing against my clit.

* * *

I woke up the next morning to the rich aroma of coffee and the sound of bacon sizzling in the pan. We had fallen asleep after I came, with soft kisses and whispers of affection after making love that second time.

Sliding out of bed, I was a little sore where Steve had entered me. I sighed softly, knowing I’d need some Aleve or ibuprofen. I grabbed my robe, and as I was putting it on, Steve poked his head out of the kitchen. “‘Morning!” he said, chipper. I smirked when I saw how much confidence was in his stride. He was a new man, walking taller.

“Good morning,” I replied. “I’m going to take a shower really fast and be right out.”

“Eggs over easy?”

“Sure.”

After a quick shower, I put on some yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and found Steve had breakfast on the table as I came out of the bathroom.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to take you out any more, just stay in?” he asked, getting the butter and strawberry preserves out of the fridge.

“As fun as last night was, I don’t want to withdraw from the world. Not all the time,” I said, getting a coffee mug out of the cabinet and pouring some hot coffee. Steve squeezed me from behind and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“I promise I'll never stop chasing you.”

I leaned into it.

As we got ready for the day, I noticed how sweet and affectionate he was with me. He was enamored with me, I realized. And I was with him, too. It was nice to feel that way with someone. I realized I had never really had another person treat me like this before.

After lunch at my apartment, he promised he could entertain himself as I went to school.

In class, I apparently was glowing.

“You had sex last night,” Alissa whispered as I got out my notebook before lecture started.

“What?” I cried, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“It better be Steve,” she said. “He’s in town, right?”

“Yeah, so?” I asked, cheeks warming up.

“Aw, I think it’s sweet,” she admitted. “You are so happy about him.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. He’s good for you,” she said. “I’m happy, too. He’s the kind of guy I love seeing you around.”

I got a few cute texts from him during lecture that he was thinking about me and how anxious he was about me coming home after he had gone for a two-hour run at the National Mall.

 _At least buy me dinner first before you expect me to put out. I’m a lady ;)_ I texted back.

_How do you feel about revisiting Circa?_

“He’s taking you out to Circa?” she asked.

“Do you want to come and have a drink with us?”

“That’s perfect, Joel’s off from the OR tonight.”

“Let me ask Steve.”

* * *

Maybe we shouldn’t have had that bottle of wine at dinner. I hardly ate anything, but that was more out of me being completely enamored with him. Alissa and Joel got a little too drunk and we had fun. We needed to celebrate last night.

I was definitely a bit tipsy when I got into the Lyft on the way home. Steve basically had to hold my head up. “You are such a lightweight,” he said.

“Don’t judge!” I cried. “I never get the chance to drink anymore! Except when you pay!”

“Women should never buy drinks for themselves,” he said. “That’s a gentleman’s job.” He had to help me up out of the car, and I could hardly walk in my heels. Steve threw me over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and carried me up the stairs and unlocked my apartment. He tossed me down on the bed.

“Found this on your door,” he said, handing me a piece of paper.

I read it, it was an angry, typed-out anonymous note from one of my neighbors about how much noise I was making.

“Chicken,” I grumbled, wadding it up. “He couldn’t sign it?”

“I’d tell him to go chase himself,” Steve grumbled from the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“Like he doesn’t play Wiz Khalifa all night and smoke weed at all hours of the night,” I grumbled. “I think he’s just jealous I was getting laid.”

“Probably,” Steve said, spitting out toothpaste. He ran the water while I took off my shoes.

I sat up and saw him loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

“God, you are so hot,” I sighed, climbing off the bed clumsily. I squeezed into my tiny bathroom and pulled the shirt out from the waistband of his dress pants, going in for a kiss.

“Dani, stop!” Steve cried, pulling away, horrified.

“What?” I cried, offended.

“You’re drunk and can’t consent.”

“I am not!”

“You got me reading about feminism and consent and the rules, and now you’re trying to backtrack?”

“I… _no_ ! I’m not _that_ drunk and I know you want to do it!”

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna do the right thing and wait all night until you sober up!”

I groaned.

“It hurts me too! This is my last night in town and I should have reminded you when we ordered an entire bottle of wine.”

“I tell you what, I’m coming up for MLK weekend while you’re on call, we have fuck all you want, and I won’t have a drop of alcohol,” I said, stumbling into the bedroom.

“Language!”

“Oh my God!” I complained. “I’m making some coffee.” In the kitchen, I knocked over the canister with the coffee grounds in it, making it clatter all over the counter.

“Are you _sure_ you’re not drunk?”  Steve was leaning on the wall watching me, smirking.

“I hate you.”

* * *

 

Steve’s work phone buzzed on the desk, waking me up.

I had sobered up enough to be annoyed by it. Steve was beside me in the bed, breathing hard enough he was almost snoring. If he hadn’t had such a secretive job, I’d have gotten the phone and woken him up. I didn’t want to risk his clearance, so I elbowed him.

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. “They’re not supposed to be paging me unless it’s the apocalypse and Christ came back.”

He got up out of bed and picked up the phone.

I flopped back into the warm mattress and covers. He checked the message and grumbled unintelligibly under his breath before coming back to bed. “Language,” I teased.

“I wasn’t cursing!” He replied, mock-offended, climbing back into the bed.

I remembered him wearing those same flannel pajama pants last night, how nervous and quick-to-the-touch his response had been. In my memory, I saw his cock straining them, and I felt myself squirming at the thought.

“I don’t feel like I can get enough of you,” I admitted. “I’m sorry I got drunk tonight. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Can we just be sober whenever we make love?” Steve asked quietly as he laid down in the bed beside me. “You know I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t ever want to do something you don’t like.”

“You haven’t.”

I almost dozed off, but I felt his hand pick mine up and he pressed my knuckles to his lips.

“I know I’m not that experienced,” he said, as I opened my eyes “but you were so sweet last night letting everything be about me. I feel like I don’t deserve you. I’m lucky, I…”

I placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. “Yes?”

He shook his head and I saw him smile in the darkness. “I need a patient, knowledgeable teacher so I know what to do with you.”

The sweet dripping off this man was almost too much to handle. An irrepressible smile crossed my face. “Who are you going to ask?”

“You’re too cute,” he snorted.

“You walked right into that one!” I laughed, propping myself up on my elbow.

“You know what I meant,” he said, sitting up, placing a kiss on my lips. “You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”

“I _am_ hilarious-“

The phone on the desk chimed aloud, making us both jump.

“I thought I turned that off,” he said, kicking off the covers. He picked up the phone and I saw his posture stiffen. “Dani, get your clothes on.”

“What? What’s happening?” I asked as there was a loud knock on my front door.

“A warning,” he said, pulling his t-shirt on over his head.

I flipped on the lamp and grabbed a pair of my pajama pants off the floor, wishing I had my bra on under my top already.

“Captain?” A voice came from the other side of the door.

“Just a second!” Steve called as I struggled into get dressed. He opened the door and a non-descript white man in a suit and trench coat stood there.

I got the chills.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

I swallowed and Steve looked over at me and a gust of cold wind came through the door, making me shiver.

He stepped inside despite my silence.

“Nice set up you have here,” the man said.

“Did Fury send you?” Steve asked, coming over to where I was standing, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“He did.”

“I’m not on call, why are you here in my private, personal time?” Steve demanded.

“I’m not here for you, Captain Rogers, I’m here for Miss Conyers.”

I swallowed as he took a seat at my desk as if he owned the place.

“It’s come to our attention how much time Captain Rogers has been spending here in DC in the last month, especially now that he’s not staying in hotels or military barracks.”

“That’s nobody’s business,” I said.

“True, but what is our business is that a civilian being around a member of the Avengers Initiative can result in an inadvertent slip of information. You might amass confidential knowledge that could be a liability for S.H.I.E.L.D. and for your safety,” he said, reaching into his trench coat. He pulled out some papers that resembled a contract. “This is why we’re offering you the help of resetting your memory if this were to happen. You see, Captain Rogers, Miss Conyers could be a liability if it your identity were revealed, she’d be linked to you. We’re being generous here: memory resets are expensive, but we’re willing to absorb the cost.”

“The cost?” I repeated, stunned. S.H.I.E.L.D. Did scientific things that the public hardly knew about. They could removed minuscule amounts of information from my memory so I didn’t remember horrible moments? I wondered if they could erase the more humiliating moments of my eating disorder and past relationship.

“We’re not interested,” Steve said harshly.

“Steve, please,” I said. “Is it safe?”

“No!” Steve barked as the agent said, “of course!”

“We’ll keep the paperwork and read for ourselves and decide if she’s going to sign it,” Steve said.

“It’s perfectly safe.”

“Test subjects have had some permanent brain damage, and you know it,” Steve said. “We’re not agreeing to anything. Especially not at one on the morning.”

“Just keep in mind, Captain Rogers…” he said pointedly, getting up from the desk chair, taking the paper documents with him. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has enemies. So by extension, so do you. HYDRA is still out there, maybe not as powerful as it once was, but it still has followers. They will uncover your identity, and when they do, Miss Conyers is in danger as well. We’re the only thing that can protect her.”

I felt a chill.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is so late. I'm on fall break right now, enjoying it too much. And this chapter is hella long, I am so sorry if you have no patience. It devolved into a total fuckfest and got totally pervy real fast, so if characters fucking is not your thing, this is not the chapter for you. But I love writing sex, even when I'm not that good at it. I'm sure I got something wrong here. I'm sure I'll get told I'm garbage soon.  
> XOXO,  
> Blue

I stepped off the train into New York City with my rolling suitcase and laptop satchel.

That night in my apartment when an agent from S.H.I.E.L.D had knocked on my door at 1 in the morning was a hazy memory. Steve promised me that he’d always keep me safe, and his identity by extension. Sending him back to New York hadn’t been an easy task, and I felt a bit paranoid the first day after that agent had tried to get me to agreed to memory erasure. I realized later that it had been an attempt to get me to agree while I was disoriented and probably not conscious, a sneaky and underhanded move. After he disappeared, Steve had explained to me that he didn’t fully trust S.H.I.E.L.D., especially the mysterious board members who never revealed their identities to him. He made me promise to never sign anything I hadn’t read first, especially if it was one of their agents. He then explained to me that mind erasure was a science that had been performed effectively, but there had been side effects of memory loss not pertaining to the targeted memories. _I’d rather you be a risk than to forget one single moment we’ve have together,_ he said, eyes boring into mine.

The paranoia had faded, though. And Steve had gone above and beyond by having a roses delivered to me at school after he left, which was slightly embarrassing, but sweet. In the card, he said he’d always protect me, no matter what. Alissa thought it was hilarious and asked me to bring him around again to their Superbowl Party, promising she’d control Joel a little better than the last party Steve had attended.

Steve was nowhere to be found when I got to Grand Central Station as I scanned the crowd.

I got out my phone and dialed him, only to get voicemail. Sighing, I dialed him again, and nothing.

This wasn’t like him. I went out to the taxi line and caught a cab to go to Brooklyn, a little anxious that he wasn’t answering the phone. On the way over, I got a text from a web address from him with the code to enter his building and that a spare key was in the mailbox, along with his mailbox code.

It made sense: he had been mobilized, probably early this morning because we had spoken last night.

At his apartment, I discovered it had pretty much been left in a rush. His vibranium shield case was missing and his bed was rumpled, which meant a quick exit. Steve always made his bed with military precision. His cell phone was still in the charger on the kitchen counter with my missed calls and texts.

In the bedroom, I found a sketch of his had done of me in a frame beside the bed. It wasn’t a naked pose, but I was sitting in a booth in the diner in my waitress uniform, resting my chin on my fist while refilling sugar canisters. He had colored it in, too. My heart filled up, but it also made me look prettier than I actually was. Well, I didn’t mind that so much.

And the good news was that this meant I had access to that bathtub all to myself.

After I poured a glass of wine (he had my favorite boxed red in the fridge already chilled and a bottle of white) and made up his bed, I ran a hot bath to soak in. I wondered where he was, as I opened my notebook where I had taken notes in class to study.

The bath felt incredible for being the first one I had had since last summer. I stayed in until the water went tepid and got some quiet time in. As I was sitting down on the couch to continue reading fully dressed, I heard a key in the door.

It opened and Steve appeared in the doorframe.

“I’m so glad you got in okay,” he said, looking exhausted. “How are you?”

“I am incredible since I had a hot bath. You look exhausted,” I said, getting up from the couch. I stood on my toes to kiss him and tried to help with his duffel and shield case, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I got it,” he said taking it all into the bedroom to set down on the dresser. “Tony didn’t add anything dirty in that message, did he?”

“What?” I asked. “No, it was perfectly perfunctory. So, what country did you go to?”

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you that,” Steve said, unzipping the bag, getting out his red, white, and blue tactical gear to put into a laundry sack. “But I was still on the continent.”

“Mexico?” I asked from the doorway. He took his helmet out of the duffel and kissed me on the way to the closet, not saying anything.

He dropped the helmet as the kissed deepened, and reached up to tangle his fingers in my hair. I leaned into it, and let him guide me backwards until the backs of my calves met the mattress.

“What are your intentions with me, Captain Rogers?” I teased.

“To do my new favorite activity. If you want, of course.”

“Yes, please.”

He tugged my top up between kisses, leaving me in my bra. I pulled him into my arms and to the bed. Mounting him, a grin cross his face as I pulled his t-shirt up, exposing his chest. He yanked it up and tossed it over his head.

“It’s been a long week,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. I had missed him a lot. I climbed down his body, finding the buckle to his belt. I undid it, and started tugging on it. Undressing him was fun, I had to admit.

As we kissed passionately, he managed to unhook my bra behind me (he seemed to be getting more confident). He flipped me over onto my back, and I felt fingers slipping under the waistband of my jeans, right under my belly button. “Go ahead,” I whispered.

He buttoned the top of my fly. He looked up at me, a smirk on his face, and gazes connected. The fingertips took my zipper and pulled it down. He kissed the point of my hip right above the elastic of my panties, tugging it down. “I missed you so much,” I whispered. He yanked my jeans further down my hips and down my legs. Before I could get up, he unzipped his khakis. I reached over and helped him push them, and his shorts, down. We had forgotten he was still in his boots, and we had to get them off, laughing at ourselves.

I let his hands roam my body as we laid down together in the bed, kissing. I myself reached up to toy with one of his nipples, his cock starting to harden against my thigh.

“You have a condom, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, I do,” he said between kisses on my shoulder. “In the nightstand.”

“Yes!” I hissed.

“I got ‘em,” he said. “I even bought them myself at the drugstore. You’d be so proud of me.”

“I am, trust me,” I chortled as he reached for them. It was a whole box. “Let me love you with my mouth?”

“Please, sweetheart.”

He rolled over onto his back and I slid down and cupped his balls. I pumped his cock, it was at half-mast. His eyes closed, and he sighed, throwing his head back on the pillow.

“Dani,” he breathed as I got his cock hard. I ran my thumb over the head and stroked down with my other hand. He went rigid in my grip, his own hand ghosting over my hair. “So good…” I took him into my mouth, running my tongue down the underside of the veiny cock. I loosening my throat, allowing him into the back of my throat, humming from the back of my throat for a moment, then popping his cock out when my gag reflex almost activated.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded.

I took him back into my mouth and sucked just enough to make a little pressure, not much. I felt his muscles clench slightly. I pulled his cock out of my mouth. “No, I want to be with you,” I whispered, kissing his happy trail. I kissed my way up to his nipple and took it into my mouth, sucking gently and running the tip of my tongue around it, making it hard.

I heard gasps of air coming out of his throat, he chanted my name. “... So good…” he moaned as I worked over to his other nipple.

His hands left my waist, and picked up the the little foil packet, ripping it with his teeth.

“Can we hold off for a minute?” I asked.

“You’re not ready?”

“I just want to enjoy you for a few minutes, baby.”

I took his hand and took his pinky finger into my mouth, sucking on it gently. I closed my eyes and enjoyed him. His other hand stroked my hair as I went down his digits. “You’re incredible,” he muttered. I pulled his finger out of my mouth and closed my eyes. “You make the simplest things…”

“Hot?”

“I was going to say ‘erotic.’ You make the little things… count.”

His hands slid around to the small of my back and he helped me lay down. We held each other and kissed. His fingers found my nipples, tweaking and pinching them slightly. I moaned softly into his kisses. He pulled away from me for a moment, and I realized he was focusing my breasts. His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples. I writhed against him, creating some friction, and the scruff of his five-o’clock-shadow on his cheeks brushed against my neck as he tickled me with neck kisses. His hand worked his way down my side to my waist, slid down under my belly button, and into my cleft.

I squeezed my eyes shut and cried out.

“Is that alright?”

“Yes,” I whispered, his fingers exploring my most intimate area of my body. I wrapped a leg around his hips, grinding on him a little bit. His fingers entered me, his thumb brushing around for my clit. He pressed his weight onto me, pressing me into the mattress.

“Ready?” he asked.

Well, he was eager. “Yeah,” I agreed. He was still learning. I didn’t want to bruise his ego too much: he _had_ listened to me.

He got the condom and put it on, rolling off me onto his back. He stroked the length a few times as I parted my legs.

“Come to me,” I said softly. He settled between my legs and held his member with one hand, his other arm propping himself up. I slipped a hand between my legs to hold myself open for him. He moaned quietly as the head of his cock entered my body. “That’s it.” I let go of myself and stroked my clit while he started thrusting gently into my body, his breathing labored. The pressure built up inside me and I leaned my head back.

“You feel so good,” Steve uttered. I wrapped my legs around his hips. Giving up on an orgasm, I stopped stroking myself, and held onto him, his hands pressing to his back.

“Faster,” I urged.

He started to speed up his moves, and I heard soft grunts come out of the back of his throat.

“Steve,” I cried. “Steven!”

He ground his teeth and sped up his thrusts, pumping in and out of me. “God, Dani… you are…”

“Please!” I cried as he started pounding into me. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt everything inside me lighting up.

At that moment, he came inside me, with a strangled cry.

He collapsed on top of me, his body going limp, panting. I stroked his sweaty back.

“Did I do it this time?” he asked between ragged breaths.

“Well… not quite. Almost.”

He groaned, almost growled, annoyed, and pulled out of me. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “We’re just getting to know what turns each other on.”

He grumbled under his breath, laying down beside me.

I got up out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

I left Steve to sleep, and took another bath after wiping us both off. After my bath, I got up to get something to eat, and I realized Steve had all the baking ingredients for koulourakia, brand-new in his cabinets. I started on the cookies, the recipe in my head already. He didn’t have any measuring cups, so I had to guess on most of it. When I got them in the oven, there was finally time to study and work on my first research paper of the semester.

Seeing Steve was a relief. I missed him, I had to be honest. True, we were in a honeymoon stage where all we wanted to do was fuck, I couldn’t let that passion cloud my judgment. But he really did have something special, we had a spark of some kind. I dared to think long-term about him.

I couldn’t see him moving to DC for me, unless the Avengers Initiative allowed him to. But maybe they would. But I could see myself moving to Brooklyn to be with him. And Steve was so traditional in so many senses. He said he eventually wanted to get married, and the idea of children didn’t scare him, it seemed. I was relieved that we had made a strong relationship  and friendship before getting to sex, too. We had to nurture that and build it for when sex wasn’t a novelty anymore so that we still valued each other.

After I had finished writing a few pages of my paper, the sun started to set. I heard his phone chime and the bed creak, and then his heavy footsteps going into the bathroom. Good, he was up.

I saved my work as the toilet flushed and Steve came out, bed-headed, pillow creased lining his cheek. “Hey,” he said, stumbling into the living room. “It smells like Christmas in this apartment.”

“The cookies are cooling in the kitchen if you want one.”

He shuffled into the kitchen. “Oh my God, Dani, these are incredible,” he said. “I’m probably going to eat the whole batch.”

“Why thank you.”

“How far along are you on your paper?” he asked, coming into the living room to sit down with me, about four cookies in his hand.

“I’ve written a few pages,” I said. “I’m still working on formatting them in APA style.”

“Good. I wanted to ask you though… How would you feel about going to a party in Manhattan tonight?”

“Tonight?” I repeated.

“Tony’s having one in Stark Tower,” he said. “I got a text message bout it just now. It’s kind of a celebration for our win today. Some singer’s going to be there… I think her name is Cardi...? Erm… Cardi B something, it doesn’t say her last name.”

“Cardi B?” I cried, astonished.

“You know her?”  
“Yeah, I do!” I cried. “She’s one of the most successful singers on the charts today! My sister loves her music.”  
“So you want to go?”

“How formal is it going to be?”

“It says ‘formal cocktail attire.’”

I groaned. The dressiest thing I had brought was my black leather jacket to go with a black lace top and my dressy jeans and boots. It was a little more urban than formal. “Would you be okay with me going in jeans? Do you think I’d be allowed in?”

“I’d be proud to take you in anything. Except that little lace number you wore last weekend, I don’t want anybody ever seeing you in that but me.”

“Be serious!”

“I am!”

“I’m going to get ready- oh crap, we need to bring a host gift!”

“Don’t worry about that, Tony has everything already-”

“That doesn’t matter!” I cried, running to the bedroom to change and put on some make-up. “Put a dozen of the cookies into a container!” I instructed. “And get that bottle of wine out.”

“I doubt anybody’s gonna notice an extra bottle of wine and cookies at a party like this. Do you even know what kind of parties he throws?”

“Just do it,” I commanded.  I traded my yoga pants for the dark slim-fit jeans, and groaned: there was a bleach spot on the hip. “Fuck, are you kidding me?” I shouted, ripping them off myself. I sniffed it and smelled bleach or drain cleaner. How did this get on my jeans?  
“What’s got you cursing?” he asked, coming into the room.

I held up the jeans with the bleach spot on them. “I loved these jeans!” I moaned. “They made me look slimmer and they’re ruined!”

“How did that happen?” he asked.

“I think… I think bleach got spilled on my suitcase,” I whined. “On the train.” I flopped down on the bed for dramatic effect. “Or maybe my bathroom at home and I just didn’t notice it until just now!”

“Hey, no need for hysterics, maybe we can fix this,” Steve said, picking them up. “Maybe I’ve got a black marker- no, these are a really dark blue, not black-”

“I can’t go,” I moaned.

“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “Come on, my friends on the team aren’t going to care what you’re wearing.”

“You told me Tony Stark wasn’t a _friend_ ,” I said. “He’s a billionaire, practically American royalty, I can’t show up in a pair of yoga pants!”

“If he wasn’t a billionaire, just a regular Joe, you wouldn’t have a problem with meeting him in what you’ve got on.”

I groaned and rolled over on the bed, face-down.

“Listen, if it bothers you so much, I can RSVP that we’re not going,” he said, his hand rubbing my back.

“No, you go,” I said, muffled by the mattress. “Tell them I couldn’t make it.”

“This is New York, maybe we can find something, there are some dress shops down the street-”

“I can’t afford to buy a new dress right now, I just bought my textbooks.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“No way! Didn’t we agree that you’re not my ATM?”

He grumbled unintelligibly under his breath.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be difficult,” I said, lifting my head. “I’m being a drama queen right now. I just want to make a good impression on them. I don’t want to be self-conscious and nervous.”

“If you don’t want to go, I won’t go, either. I feel bad enough about being mobilized when you got here this morning.”

“That’s your job,” I sighed. “I’m just being dramatic, I’m sorry. How long do we have?”

“I think… an hour at best including the trip across the river,” he checked his watch.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said, standing up, picking up my yoga pants. “I’m sorry, those were my favorite jeans and they’re ruined, I’m just a little upset about that. They didn’t have Anne Taylor Loft, did they?”

The door buzzed.

He kissed my head and got up to answer the intercom. “Yes?”

_“This is Dalton Messenger Service for Danielle Conyers.”_

There was a long pause. “Dani?” Steve called, buzzing them in.

“Who is it?” I asked, pulling my yoga pants back on.

“A messenger service. Were you expecting something?”

“No,” I said, going back into the living room.

The messenger knocked on the door, and Steve opened it.

The messenger was a middle-eastern looking man, and he was carrying a garment bag and had a small suitcase and a shoe box. “Miss Conyers? Hi, I have a delivery for you from Pepper Pots.”

“Who?” I asked, stumped.

He set the items down on the couch, reaching into his trench coat. “She sent a letter to you.”

I opened it, and it was on cardstock, hand-written.

“You know the saying ‘behind every great man is a great woman?’ That’s Pepper and Tony,” Steve explained.

_‘Dear Miss Conyers,_

_Hi, I’m Pepper, I’m Tony Stark’s ‘right arm’. He asked me to throw last-minute a party this afternoon, and it would be a shame if you missed it. You’re all Steve talks about, and I can’t wait to meet you. I hope this outfit I picked out for you is to your liking. You can keep the dress and shoes, but the earrings and necklace have to go back to TIffany’s, couldn’t wrangle those for you. Don’t ask how I did it, just come to the party tonight._

_Best Wishes,_

_Pepper Potts, MBA,_

_Vice President of Operations_

_Stark Enterprises_ ’

“Pepper’s brilliant. If she came from Tony’s money, she’d be the one of the cover of Forbes magazine,” Steve said.

The messenger opened the suitcase and I saw a beautiful, delicate gold chain with seed pearls and a matching set of drop-pearl earrings. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “These are real?”

“Yes, indeed,” the messenger said. “Miss Pots already signed off on them, but we’ll be back for them in the morning.”

“Hey, Dani, looks like you’ve got a dress to wear to the party,” Steve said, unzipping the garment bag, exposing a beautiful cranberry-colored silk dress with delicate gold embroidery with seed bead pearls.

* * *

Let’s talk Cinderella moments. A girl’s guaranteed to have one at a her wedding. But I was having one tonight as we pulled up to Stark Tower in a cab. In the wreckage of the attack on New York, Tony Stark had left the A on the Stark Tower alone in the rebuilding, glowing in the Manhattan night. It glowed over our heads.

“Don’t be so nervous around the rest of my the team,” Steve said, helping me out of the cab. I carefully aimed the shoes, heels with pearls inlaid in the heel and the spike, out of the gutter water, Steve picked me up so I avoided it all together. They weren’t designer shoes, but they had to be expensive. I clutched the white wine bottle and the Zip-loc baggie of koulourakia. “You already know Natasha. She likes you, I swear. And if my sources are correct, Bruce and Thor are going to be there. Clint might have disappeared, though. You’ll get to meet my whole team, I think.”

The doorman opened the door for us as we walked into a clean, but beautiful lobby. The guard at the front desk nodded at us. “Hi, how are you?” I said, out of habit.

He only nodded back.

“Front deskmen rarely talk to guests or residents unless they can serve them,” Steve muttered.

“Oh,” I said, blushing.

“You’re just Southern. And friendly. ‘Nothing wrong with that.”

As we took the elevator up, I unbuttoned my ratty peacoat. I hoped I’d get to deposit it at the coat check before anybody really saw me in it.

On the top floor, there was a lobby with a large, soothing stone and water piece on the wall. The door was open, and we walked into a full-fledged classy party, like something you’d see on TV, but it as in real life. I tried not to let my astonishment show.

“May I take your coat?” the man at the front door asked.

“Yes please,” I said, “Thank you!”

“Can I take your other items?”  
I blushed, and realized how awkward it would be to present this to Mr. Stark. “Could you make sure Mr. Stark gets these?” I asked.

“Of course, ma’am. Captain Rogers, we’ll put these under your name?”

“If you don’t mind,” Steve said. He took my hand and walked me into the penthouse suite of Stark Tower.

Among the people at the party, I spotted a few film and television stars, and a few supermodels.

“You are so nervous,” Steve whispered. “Do you need a drink?”

“A drink would be nice,” I admitted. At the bar, Steve and I ordered, and of course, it was an open bar. Tony Stark had an incredible view of the city, and it glimmered, taking my breath away through the infiniti windows leaning out to the balcony. I had learned a little bit about manners and party decorum from my mother, and I tried to remember it all as Steve filled me in on the different people from S.H.I.E.L.D he worked with that were there. Among a group of New York Knicks basketball players in one corner, I saw Natasha talking to them, and she commanded their full attention even though she was at least a foot shorter than the smallest one. I caught her eye, and I waved at her. She waved back, but went back to talking to them.

“There’s Clint, brooding in the shadows,” Steve muttered in my ear. I glanced over to where he was nodding. A guy was sitting at one of the cocktail tables, watching the party.

“Hawkeye?” I whispered.

He nodded. “He doesn’t usually socialize.”

“And that’s Thor?” I asked, nodding at the big, beefy blond guy with his hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a silk button-up navy blue shirt with adoring models giggling at everything he said.

“And that’s Dr. Banner.”

A man, a little shorter than Steve, was walking towards us, reading his phone.

“Hey, Bruce!” Steve called. He looked up, and I could see silver edging his sideburns. He was kind of cute, in a doctor kind of way.

“Steve! Hey!” Bruce cried.

“Glad you made it,” Steve said. “Bruce, I want you to meet my girlfriend. This is Danielle Conyers.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, my accent coming out full-fledged. Most of the time, I could control that, but the more nervous I was in social situations, the more it came out. I held out my hand, which he shook.

“Nice to meet you too, Danielle,” he said.

“You can call me Dani,” I said. “You’re the doctor who works for the W.H.O? Humanitarian work?”

“Yeah, that’s what I do,” he said, almost shyly. I got the impression Dr. Banner wasn’t the most social creature.

“He works in some of the poorest parts of Asia,” Steve said. “He’s actually pretty brilliant.”  
“Oh, come on now,” Dr. Banner bashfully.

“And married to his work. That’s why I wasn’t sure he’d be here tonight.”

“It gives me a reason to live,” Dr. Banner said. “It’s not a career, it’s my life.”

I smiled at that. “I get that way about psychology.”

“Steve said you were going into counseling psychology?”

“Yes, that’s right,” I said, feeling myself relax a little bit. “I go to George Washington U in DC.”

“Great school, I did a few studies there,” he said. “Expensive, though.”

“Yeah, I’m on a lot of student loans, grants, and scholarships,” I admitted.

“And she still works,” Steve added, his hand touching the small of my back. “I’ve never seen a lady work so hard.”

“It gets better the further along you go,” Dr. Banner said. “Which branch of counseling are you the most interested in?”

“Attachment theory,” I said. “I find that fascinating.”

“I did, too! I personally found it sad when I saw the studies on one-year-olds with dysfunctional attachment.”

“Oh, so did I!” I cried. “I think attachment dysfunction can affect how people grow up and their relationships later in life.”

“Did you study Bowen?”  
“I did, but I’m a little more fond of Minuchin’s theories.”

Bruce and I got into a conversation about attachment theory and its effect for a few minutes, and then his phone chimed. I realized Steve had been watching me, proudly as I got into a discussion with Dr. Banner. “If you could excuse me, it’s one of my interns in Cambodia, I’ve got to make a phone call,” he said.

“It was so nice talking to you, Dr. Banner,” I said.

“You too,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “And it’s just Bruce, not Dr. Banner.”

“I think he likes you,” Steve whispered as Bruce went to the kitchen to make a call.

Steve and I went out to the balcony to see the city. It was freezing, but there were outdoor heaters people were standing around them. “See, I can’t really weigh in on the things you talk about with the brainy people.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Science isn’t my thing, it’s battle and strategy. I could recite the chapters of your textbooks I’ve read, but I don’t think I really get it, you know?”  
“Well, it’s good that we have separate specialities. I think we were in the same field, we’d end up arguing. I like hearing about your work. And you seem to like hearing about mine.”

“At first I thought it was… malarkey.”

“Har har,” I replied.

“But not now,” he said. “I see the merit in what you do. What you do helps, and… Dani… I um…”

His arm around my back stiffened. He had this habit of trying to tell me something really difficult, but he choked up at the last second.

“Nevermind.”

“You can tell me anything, you know,” I said. “You’re my favorite person to talk to, you know that, right?”

“And you’re that for me.”

“I kind of think of you as… my best friend,” I admitted. “I know we’ve only know each other a couple of months, but you’re the first person I think of when I have something happen, who I want to tell first. I’ve never had this happen with a boyfriend or someone I’m dating.”

His arm relaxed. “How do you feel about me, Dani?”

I realized how amazing of a person he was. What a pure, honest heart he had, and how much respect and honor that was just a part of him. There had been a time before I met him that I didn’t think men had that any longer. I felt tears pricking my eyes when I thought about how he made me feel. I had asked myself several times if I loved him. I looked over at him, and he was looking at me. I could see a little fear in his eyes, that I was going to say the wrong thing. And then I lost all my nerve at that moment: I probably would. We were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship where the sex was exciting and new, and possibly clouding my judgment. I knew Steve pretty well, but we hadn’t been through a lot of difficult situations together, yet. What would that reveal about his character? “You make me believe that there’s still good in this world. And I that I don’t have to be scared. Because you said you’d protect me.”

He looked relieved when I said that.

“I know I try to be tough and feminist, but I’m not Natasha, I can’t defend myself very well in bad situations. Knowing you’re there makes me want to…”

“Take more risks?”

“No!” I laughed. “It makes me happy. There are things I can experience in life that I might have missed if I had never met you. You’re opening the world up to me. I want to go places with you, and I’m not afraid of the unknown, now. Because… I keep thinking you’ll be there.”

He didn’t say anything, just pressed his forehead to mine.

“How do you feel about me?” I asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, but a loud blast of music blared over invisible speakers and a MC announced Cardi B.

As the music crescendoed, Cardi B came out in a costume with backup dancers and if Steve said anything to me, it was drowned out by the music.

I had left my phone in my purse: anybody who had a phone had their camera option suddenly disabled, and I guessed that Tony Stark’s technology was behind it. I didn’t have the option of filming the concert to brag to Lauren. Icy dots of rain fell from the sky and stung my skin, but I wasn’t moving from this spot through the warmth. With Steve holding me as we watched together, I pressed my back into his chest to watch the show.

Cardi B finished her music, that I recognized from hanging out with Lauren, and the crowd cheered. I had never been to such a big-name concert in such an intimate setting.

“What did you think?” I asked Steve, turning around to look up at him.

“Not my style. But she had really great energy.”

“I thought so too. Her dancers were great!”

“If you say so,” he scoffed.

“Captain?”

I turned around and saw a statuesque redhead who had the body of a model in a little black dress with tasteful rhinestones and demure (but gorgeous) jewelry, behind us. “Pepper! Hi, how are you?” Steve asked, going forward to hug her and kiss her cheek.

“Did you enjoy the concert?” she asked, smiling pleasantly. “This is Danielle, right? Hi, I’m Pepper Potts.”

“Thank you for the dress. And the shoes and… the whole outfit,” I gushed. “That was so generous of you and… just what I needed. My dressy outfit got ruined on the train.”

She shook my hand and grinned. “I’m good like that,” she said, winking knowingly. “We’ve wanted to meet you for a while. And Tony said thank you for the wine and cookies.”

I blushed; I didn’t think they had noticed anything yet.

“We’re glad you made it, regardless. You know, if you were interested, Tony’s turning away from military contracting, and he’s turning his industries towards green energies and rebuilding the VA. Part of rebuilding the VA is the mental care aspect of what happens to our soldiers after war. He wants to engineer new methods of healing PSTD.”

“Really?” I asked.

“We can talk later,” she said knowingly. She hugged Steve good-bye. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Pepper.”

Pepper went on to greet another couple and chat them up.

“Ready to meet some more of my people?” Steve asked.

“You bet.”

Steve introduced me to several people from S.H.I.E.L.D. and they were pretty interesting. We ended up in a small lounge off to the side with Thor, of all people. I remembered him from the Chute the night when we met and the way he spoke as a little strange, but he was hilarious with a few beers in him. Thor struck me as a big, tough football player that was a giant teddy bear off the field. I realized the party was emptying out.

“It’s getting late,” I said to Steve. “I don’t want to be the last guest at the party.”

“Yeah, I understand. Oh, I have a new surprise for you,” he said, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Thor, why don’t you come with us?”

“Where are we going, friend?”

“It’s a surprise for Dani.”

“I love surprises! Count me in!”

We picked up our coats, and Thor told me that he’d be leaving in a few hours, but he had enjoyed the ‘City of Mortals’ and meeting me. In the cab, Steve gave the driver an address, and we were crammed in there with Thor. Thor was actually a little bit bigger than Steve, even more muscles and long blond hair. I was crammed in the middle of the bench seat, I knew a few girls who’d have been dead jealous in a moment like this. It was weird to think I was sitting between a super soldier born in the 1920s and a god.

Thor found so many things in the moral world hilarious, like little children wearing mittens. “You can’t even use your fingers wearing those!” he laughed as we pointed out a child being carried by his father, asleep on his shoulder on the sidewalk.

“I made a pair of those once. Most difficult thing I’ve ever made with knitting needles.”

“Why would you do that to a small one, though?” he asked.

I laughed, too. “You’re weird.”

He laughed, too. “You’re ‘weird’ too, Danielle Conyers.”

The cab pulled up in front of a jazz club.

“What is this?” I cried, excited.

“Remember when you came to New York to visit me for the first time, and we never go to see the 14-piece orchestra?” Steve asked. “I got the message that they were playing tonight.”

I squealed in excitement.

“She likes this,” Steve explain to Thor.

Inside, we could hear the band playing. Through the foyer, we found the main room, and the band was playing. I almost swooned I was so happy.

“Miss Conyers, would you care to dance?” Steve shouted over the music.

I took his arm and we went out onto the dance floor, and we reviewed East Coast Swing, even though I wasn’t really dressed for it. At one point, Thor came over and asked if he could cut in, and I found out he was a little more forceful in leading and tried to make me do aerial stunts some of the other couples had been doing. I had to calm him down, he was too eager  but only stepped on my toes only a few times. I went back to the bar to find Steve when another girl came up and asked to dance with Thor.

“Having fun?” he asked, the white wine spritzer waiting beside him. He handed it to me.

“Tonight has been incredible. I can’t believe I got see Cardi B in concert and got a designer dress,” I marveled. He beamed with pride. “It’s been perfect. Thank you.”

“Can I take you out on the floor again?” he asked.

“Please!”

I was surprised Thor hadn’t thrown any of the girls who had cut in on us into the rafters, but they were all giggling and enjoying it. Steve and I didn’t show off like that, but danced to about two or three more songs. We said goodnight to Thor, who was making friends all over the place, and took a cab back to Brooklyn to go home.

“Is Thor normally that good with the ladies?” I joked.

“Always,” Steve said. “Of course, they’re going to be really disappointed when he disappears from New York for a few months or years.”

“He was a good dancer, I bet he’ll come back for that,” I admitted. “But very eager. This is not a dancing dress, there’s no real give to the skirt and he was trying to throw me up into the air.”

“You look so beautiful. I was so proud to have you as my date tonight.”

“You think I’m pretty!” I sang.

“Of course.”

“I’m surprise none of those girls who danced with Thor got thrown into the ceiling tiles,” I laughed.

“Me too!”

“Is he a dumbass?”

“A dumbass?” Steve laughed. “What?”

“All brawns and no brains? Is he stupid?”  
“No, he’s actually pretty smart, just culturally… he’s very different. Like me.”

“He just made me laugh a lot. He’s cute. Does he have a girlfriend?”  
“I don’t think he’s ready to settle down, yet. Don’t go trying to fix him up.”

We crossed the river back to Brooklyn, and got out at his apartment. Upstairs, we avoided crazy Helen and unlocked his apartment. Even though it was almost midnight, I went to the bathroom to run another bath to warm up and just enjoy the hot water.

“You’re running another bath?” he asked.

“I haven’t had access to a bathtub in months,” I said, going into the bedroom and taking off the leased jewelry, leaving it on the dresser. “Don’t you ever take baths?”

“No,” he snorted. “I think the last time I took a bath I was twelve and couldn’t stand up after a stint in the hospital from a bad asthma attack.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to get in with me?” I asked, unzipping my dress and carefully hanging it up on the hanger it had come on.

“I doubt we can both fit in there.”

“You can watch me?” I suggested, unhooking my bra and stepping back into the bathroom, glancing over my shoulder.

He _was_ watching me.

“You’re killing me!” he called.

Hissing, I lowered my naked body into the hot water and groaned in relief as the heat soaked into my body. My feet needed it the most. “I’m leaving bath fizzies here for next time I come to New York,” I yelled.

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Steve said from the doorway. “Leave some of your stuff here. I could clear out a dresser drawer. And maybe I could leave some stuff at your place? Then, we could just catch a train and not have to worry about luggage.”

“You could drive your motorcycle down more,” I said, thinking of my ruined clothing. “I think that’s a great idea, let’s do it.”

“Okay,” Steve said. I heard him rustling around in the bedroom. He was making room for me!

Of course, I had a panicked thought that things were moving too fast. But when I thought about why it was so scary, it was only scary because men were supposed to be scared of commitment. He was committing to me. Was it because he was lonely after all his family and friend had died? He needed something to hold onto. Was that such a bad thing? It really wasn’t. I didn’t mind being someone’s everything.

Once my toes turned to prunes and the water turned tepid, I got out of the tub. Steve did not have a bathrobe for some weird reason, so I wrapped up in a bath towel.

“I’ve already started unpacking your suitcase,” Steve said, proudly. “And I’ve got room in my closet, too.”

“I’m so proud of you!” I laughed. “Even offering me closet space! I’m impressed… and you’re really stupid, do you know that?”

“ _I’m_ stupid?” he asked, stunned.

“Yes! You trust your girlfriend not to take your closet over?” I asked, getting out my bottle of lotion from my suitcase to lotion up in the bathroom and my phone from the dresser.

“Oh, I get it. Don’t you think that’s a sexist stereotype? And unfair?”

“No! Have you seen how packed my closet is?” I called back, rubbing lotion into my legs.

“I just assumed that was because your apartment is a closet itself.”

“Touché!” I cried, taking off the towel to get my back and stomach. I grabbed the white button up he had been wearing tonight from the hamper and slipped it on.

I turned on Nina Simone’s _Feeling Good_ on my phone.

“Dani, did you turn on the music?” Steve asked while I finished buttoning the shirt.

“Be patient, Stevie,” I called as Nina Simone finished the opening a capella verse.

The music started, and I yanked the door open. Steve was laying on top of the bed, reading a book. I stood up on my toes and started the burlesque-sexy walk across the floor, and stopped in the doorway to wiggle my hips and do a shoulder-shimmy.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Of course.” I did a few dance moves that Nia had taught me from burlesque, and tried to unbutton the shirt one at a time to tease. Steve was trying not to laugh, but was looking at me like I was insane.

I flashed a little more skin, and a little more as I unbuttoned my top, and then went behind the door once I got it completely unbuttoned, slipping it off out of his view, holding it out for him to see.

“You’re just teasing me, now, aren’t you?”

I dropped the shirt.

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked, coming out of the bathroom. His eyebrows almost shot off his head when he saw me walk out of the bathroom in the full light, completely naked.

“Dani, uh…”

“You’ve seen me naked before,” I said, climbing into the bed. “Aren’t you always complaining about me wearing complicated ‘underthings’ you just want to get me out of?”

“Never with all the lights on,” he said. “Okay… maybe I enjoy undressing you just a little bit. I’m still figuring out what I like with you. There’s so much we haven’t tried yet.”

I sighed, thinking of how dangerous his job was.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got a dangerous job,” I said. “I’d say you’ve got all the time in the world, but you could die tomorrow when you’ve been mobilized.”

“Hey, I’m a lot tougher than that!” he cried. “I survived crashing into the Arctic and being frozen for seventy years. I wear Kevlar and light titanium in battle. A couple of bullets aren’t going to do anything to me. And I’ve got all the known vibranium in world in my shield. It’s pretty much the strongest shield ever created by man. I’ll be around.”

“So, what do you want to do with me, Captain Rogers?” I asked.

“Uh…” his cheeks turned pink. I honestly thought he’d be unable to say anything. “Would think I’m completely sick if I asked to take you, bent over?”

A fire lit inside me. “I’m okay with that,” I admitted.

“Oh my God…” he muttered, embarrassed.

“I’m not laughing,” I said. “I fantasize about that, too. I’ve done it in that position more than once, it’s not that perverted.”

“You do? Okay, good. I’m not a complete degenerate.”

“No,” I said, trying to suppress a laugh. I walked my fingers up his bare chest. “Well, maybe we’re both degenerates and we’d enjoy each other in pervy ways. And nobody has to know. It’ll be our little secret, Stevie.” I slid my fingers down to his waistband of his shorts, slipping my fingers under the elastic. I licked along the planes of his chest, getting to one of his nipples. I licked around it, feeling it harden under my tongue. I heard his breath catch in his throat. If he knew what I had wanted to do to him the first time I met him... “Let me try?”

“Please...” I slid my hand down his shorts and found his member awaiting me. His eyes squeezed shut and his lips parted, a groan coming out. “Oh, Dani..”

“I know, baby.” I stroked the length, feeling it become harder. I loved watching his o-face as I worked him. I kissed along his neck up to the corner of his jaw. He turned his face to kiss my lips. I slid my hand down to his balls, and used feather-light touches at first. “Hold out,” I coached.

“I’m trying,” he groaned into my mouth, his hips arching up against mine. I swallowed his moans and he pressed into me, pushing me over onto my back, taking over. He pushed my hand away from his cock, and started pumping it himself, out of my view.

“Steve,” I whispered. I didn’t need to lube tonight, certainly, I was getting so hot.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,” he said softly. “A condom? Please?”

“Kay,” I replied, rolling over onto my side as he steadied his weight on one arm, planking over me. I grabbed the box of condoms out of the drawer and tore it open for him with my teeth. He took it and put it on, and I glanced down at his erection. “I love watching you touch yourself.”

He groaned and closed his eyes, fumbling with the condom. I reached down and picked it up, pinching the tip, placing it over his cockhead. He rolled it down, it stretching over the robust length.

“I want it,” I said softly. “Please!”

He tried to enter me, and this time, he ran the latex-covered cockhead up the line of my entrance. He pushed into me, I didn’t even have to hold myself open this time. We both cried out at the same time.

“Steve, yes!” I cried as he put his weight on my body, blanketing it. We started moving together, he was shaking all over as he started thrusting inside me. “So good, I’m gonna…” I arched against him, and his movements sped up. My eyes were rolling up into the back of my head from the friction, the impending explosion was so close… “I’m so close- can you feel it?” I asked.

“Yeah, love, I can.”

“Harder!” I begged.

“What?” he asked, his eyes opening. I could see unshed tears in his eyes.

“Deeper!” I begged. He pushed in deeper inside me, I arched harder. “Steven! Yes!” I was so close...

He came inside me, pulsing, a soft, strangled sound coming out of the back of his throat.

He collapsed on top of me, still shaking. “So much… I… Did you…”

“No,” I whispered. “S’okay.”

“I can’t-”

“Not a big deal,” I promised, although I was squirming on the edge. “Touch me?”

He was still shaking, breath ragged as he lifted his body off me. He still had his shorts around his hips as he pulled out of me. “I want to see what you look like.” He sat down between my legs and I was completely open and exposed, wet, probably dripping from arousal. I tried to close my eyes as his fingers ghosted their way up my thigh to my inner lips. Just knowing he was looking at the most intimate part of me, studying it, how I reacted, his inquisitive fingers made me gasp and my toes curled. “So pretty…”

All my insecurities evaporated.

My breathing was labored and my muscles clenched as his touch. His fingers probed me apart, entering me. His thumb brushed the edge of one of my inner lips and I wore my hair curled, it was so electric. He traced along it, up over my clit, and down the other side. I looked down at him, his face intense, staring between my legs, tears gathered under his eyes, one dripping down his cheek, his breathing labored as his finger sought deeper refuge inside me. A long, slower groan came out of me unintentionally, my muscles clenching at the almost unbearable pleasure. His thumb slid into the crevice of between my inner and outer lips. “I wanna play you like a piano,” he growled, the dirtiest thing to ever come out of his mouth to me. My lower back arched up in the air suddenly and out of my control, it was so hot.

“I want you to,” I heard myself say. His fingers slowly pulled out of me, and slid down slightly.

“Oh Dani, you’re…” His thumb brushed my clit. I felt my muscles contract at the pleasure. I couldn’t take this kind of sex. I never had been able to. I was mewling, practicing, I squeezed my eyes shut, and tried to let the pleasure take me completely.

The thing with a good orgasm for me is I felt like I was floating. The endorphins were so good, it felt like gravity didn’t exist. My whole body tingled.

Steve laid down on top of me. “I’m sorry I can’t do that with you, make you… climax,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses along my shoulder. His fingers brushed a lock of my hair out of my face, and I realized it had my own arousal on them.

“You just did,” I said, the world around me spinning and with black splotches in my vision.

“No, I meant… at the same time,” he said softly.

“It’s overrated and only happens in porn,” I said softly. “Don’t put too much stock into it, okay?”

He groaned, shaking his head.

“I’m going to need another bath,” I said softly. “Can you give me one?”

“I don’t take baths.”

I was unhappy about that, but before I could protest, he picked me up off the mattress and carried me into the bathroom. I felt weightless in his arms. He stood me up in the bathtub in the dim bathroom and I stood there, naked and sweaty and sticky for a second as he warmed up the water in the faucet. “Just a second,” he promised, and turned on the shower head. I was hit with cold water for a second, and I shrieked, surprised, but the hot water came on.

The light over the sink came on, but the shower was still dim. I ran my hands over my face and through my hair, pushing the water through it under the spray.

He was so curious about me. And yeah, I was curious about him. The truth was, I was certain I loved him. But he was so careful. This was his first relationship. I was terrified of overwhelming him with too many things and driving him away. How stupid was I, falling in love with a super soldier who lived three hours from me? I started to weep.

Steve pulled the shower curtain. “Dani, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” I sobbed, feeling the shower spray wash away my tears.

“Dani?”

“No, not really,” I muttered.

The shower curtain gently slipped aside and Steve was shoving his shorts off, climbing into the shower with me, having disposed of the condom. He turned me around by my shoulders, gently.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m just… overwhelmed… so many feelings right now,” I said softly, looking up into his face. His cheeks were tearstained, too.

“That was intense,” he said softly. “I like how intense it is.”

“Me too,” I said. He dipped his head down to kiss me.

“Remember when you used to make me ask for permission to kiss you?” he asked.

I tried not to laugh, but a giggle escaped my lips as a fresh tear slid down my already wet cheek. “Yeah. When we’re alone, you can kiss me any time you want.”

“Thanks.”

He turned around in the tiny space and picked up my bottle of shampoo.

“Alright, you’ve got to tell me how to do this. This is another first for me.”

“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t showered with other people before,” I said, wiping my eye with the back of my wrist.

“No, communal showering is the norm in the Army.”

“Hey, that’s kind of hot,” I admitted. “You in a shower with a bunch of naked, hot men?”

“Ha. Keep your eyes on the floor tiles, don’t get caught looking at anybody. It can get awkward really fast and you risk getting called queer if you do.”

He made me laugh again. “Okay, you don’t have to squeeze out a lot of shampoo, just amount about silver-dollar sized. I have a lot of hair.”

He did as I advised, and his hands worked the mixture into my hair. I sighed at the touch, closing my eyes to enjoy it: I loved him. He made me so happy. “That’s it?”  
“Mmm-hmm,” I agreed as he massaged my scalp. I leaned my head back so the suds didn’t get into my eyes. It was incredible loving someone, but also bittersweet that I couldn’t say it. “Sorry we didn’t get around to doing it with me on all fours just now.”  
“We’ve got the rest of the weekend.”

“I guess we have a checklist,” I said, shrugging, opening my eyes. He leaned me back into the shower spray to rinse the shampoo from my hair. I guided him through the conditioner stage of hair washing, and leaving it in. He washed me with liquid body wash with his hands, massaging me. I sighed and leaned my head back as he kissed along my neck, pressed me against the cold tile wall.

“You’re so soft under my hands,” he murmured.

He then picked me up and pressed me up against the wall, with all the soap washed off me, holding me steady somehow, my feet off the porcelain tub floor. “It’d be perfect right now,” I muttered.

“We can do this… right now?”

“Okay.”

And with that, he entered me.

I hadn’t protested, but it felt incredible. “Steve…” I punctuated it with a gasp for air.

“Dani…” he groaned. “You feel so good.”

“Yes… Oh no!” I cried. “We forgot the condom!”

“One time shouldn’t hurt?”

“Pull out before you cum,” I said, surrendering. This felt too damn good to stop. My cries echoed off the tile and he proceeded to pull out of me, but his grip loosened. When he pulled out, he set my feet down on the tile floor. I knelt down and took his cock into my hand and helped him come onto my breasts.


	19. Chapter 19

I woke up to Steve getting back from a run at about eight. The sun had just come up in New York. After exchanging pleasantries about his run, I invited Steve back to the bed. We had intense sex again, although neither of us cried this time. I felt so much longing for him to be _there_ , every day, instead of having to plan out our time together. It was like our sex schedule was accelerated because we were going to spend so much time apart and I was pretty damn sore from it. But I wouldn’t say that to him just yet. I was surprised he could have sex this many times in twenty-four hours, but apparently the Super Soldier Serum did things like this to its subjects, but hadn’t made the Army records. Pity. This was better than Viagra and I don’t think even teenage boys could do it as often as he had since yesterday.

He got up and started some coffee for us and I took another bath.

“I made coffee just like you like it, if it’s okay that I come in?” Steve asked, knocking on the door.

“It’s fine,” I said.

He pushed the door open and had my coffee and a plate of koulourakia for me. “I’m making eggs and toast for when you get out of the bathtub… How much longer are you going to stay in there?”

“Okay, fine, I’m coming,” I said, pulling the drain. The doorbuzzer rang in the apartment.

“Were you expecting guests?” I asked.

“No.”

I got my towel of the radiator and dried off, getting my clothes in the bedroom.

“Pepper’s coming up,” Steve said, looking a little panicked.

“I’ll get dressed quick,” I promised.

As I was putting on my bleach-stained jeans and my lace top, I heard a knock on the door.

“Steve, hi!” I heard Pepper’s voice. “I hope you had a great time at the party last night.

“I did, come in. Dani came over for breakfast.”

“I’ll be right there!” I called. I put on a little foundation, chapstick, and mascara and pulled my hair back into a butterfly clip.

In the living room, the middle-eastern man had returned. He nodded at me. “I’m here for the Tiffany’s pieces we loaned out to you last night?”

“Oh, I’ll get them, they’re on the dresser,” I said.

“No rush.”

Steve and Pepper were at the breakfast nook, he had poured her a cup of coffee. She stood up when I walked into the room.

“Dani, it’s good to see you again,” Pepper said, grinning. She was a little intimidating-looking, being so beautiful and statuesque, but her personality was so friendly it overcame it. She was dressed in slim jeans and a graphic t-shirt that was tucked in under her belt and a fitted burgundy corduroy and lace blazer to dress it up. Her leather, pointed-toe booties probably cost a month’s rent for me, easy. She looked easily stylish, like she had just thrown this outfit together, but looked like a model, still.

“I had a great time at the party last night,” I admitted. “You and Tony know how to throw a party.”

“Well, when you can throw a lot of money into a party and have a large staff, it’s easy to get things together in an afternoon.”

“My sister’s going to be so jealous that you got Cardi B to perform,” I said. “And thank you for the dress, it was beyond anything I’ve ever worn.”

“I’ll get the jewelry?” Steve asked.

“Thanks, honey,” I said. “Can you get my coffee, too?”

“I had one of your cookies last night before I went to bed,” Pepper said. “Tony ate the rest last night before I could get to them.”

“We should have some leftovers,” I said, going into the kitchen to open the Zip-loc baggie, only to find there were maybe five left. What the hell? Had Steve eaten most of them? I got the last ones out.

“I try to avoid flour, but, once in a while is okay,” she said, picking one up, taking a bite. “This is worth it. Oh, and you impressed Tony. You were the only couple that brought any kind of host gift.”

“We did?”

“Nobody ever brings him anything for the parties. Anyway, let me get to the point of why I came by: for you. Tony wanted to come here to talk to you, but didn’t have a free space in his schedule today.”

“Wow, he’s a busy man.”

“He sent me instead. So, like I said last night, he’s turning his empire’s mission to rehabilitating our veterans and green energy, mainly. He wants to work with the best minds in psychiatric rehabilitation for the VA. He’s got his sights set on certain people in the industry engineering new treatments. The people already working with us have already started creating new EMDR treatments. He wants to revolutionize PTSD treatment. We’re the citizens our military protects. And it’s our job to not only vote against the warhawks that would send them out into battle for no good reason asides from making them money, but to protect our soldiers by helping them through trauma. He wants to make sure he’s got the best up and coming minds to learn how to treat these veterans. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” I asked. “I’m only one full semester into my graduate program.”

“At George Washington U. That’s nothing to sneeze at, Dani. Our psychologists are planning on mentoring grad students and Ph.D. students that are excited and passionate about helping our veterans. We want America’s VA system and Stark Industries to become the cutting edge of trauma treatment technology, world-wide. Our veterans deserve the best. He wanted to encourage you to apply for your internship here in New York for next year.”

I was stunned. An opportunity to directly help our veterans? I had seen PTSD in my father. “It would be an honor,” I admitted. “But… I’m in school three hours away.”

“Have you considered living in New York part time?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

I shook my head. “It’s hard enough living in DC,” I admitted.

“We have some agreements dormitories at Carnegie-Mellon and NYU… if you and Steve weren’t ready to cohabitate, even part time.”

I glanced over at Steve. His eyebrows raised.

“We’re not at that point, yet,” he said.

“Baby, sit down,” I said.

“We have grants, too,” she said. “And student loan forgiveness for our supervised recent-grads looking to get their licensure, if you’re interested.”

“I am,” I said. Money towards school and living I didn’t have to pay back was a relief.

Steve took a seat to my side. “I would love to have Dani living so close by,” Steve said, rubbing my back with his free hand. “It’s a lot of work to keep up a relationship with our schedules and the distance between us.”

“So, what do you think?” Pepper asked. “Can we get your information for when you start interviewing for your internship next summer? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not promising you a position, but if you put in an application, I have a feeling you’d meet our expectations.”

The idea of getting my internship started next fall in New York was appealing: Steve would probably ask me to move in with him, and it would be a relief. I’d get experience in dealing with trauma and PTSD and the 1000 hours I needed in internship to graduate. Maybe I’d give up my apartment, move Lourdes Marie to New York, and move in Kamika or Mia as a roommate only on the nights I was in classes. They had roommates moving out in May. And with Tony Stark heading this division of psychology in America, it couldn’t _not_ be a good program. Of course, I didn’t know where my relationship with Steve was going. If Steve didn’t want me to move in next fall, my heart would be broken. But if he did… I had to weigh my options carefully. I had planned on living in the DC area until I graduated. “I’d love to meet with your people,” I said.

She grinned. “Here’s my card. Email me your resume this summer. And I have the feeling, with the Avenger’s Initiative, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future regardless. I’ve got to get back the office, though,” she stood up.

“It was nice seeing you again,” I added.

“It’s always good to see you, Pepper,” Steve said, standing up to see her out.

“You too,” Pepper said.

Once she and the man from the courier service were gone. I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee. “Why did you tell her that I _came over_ for breakfast?” I asked.

“What?”

“You told Pepper I came over for breakfast, like I spent the night somewhere else,” I said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve scoffed. “Are you sure you heard me right-”

“Deflecting.”

Steve’s jaw set defiantly as I sat down at the table.

“Are you ashamed to spend the night with me?” I asked. “After all the times you said you were happy I was your first?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then why did you make it sound like I’m staying at a hotel or something?” I asked irritated. “Sexual norms are so different, now, nobody cares- hell, S.H.I.E.L.D. knows you spend the night with me!”

“I don’t- Dani, why is this a big deal to you that people know we spend the night together? Didn’t you tell me that nobody cares?”

“You care so much that people know?” I asked. “You friends?”

“I don’t…” his cheeks were turning pink in the morning light. “I don’t want people thinking you’re loose. Or easy. That’s why. I don’t care if people think I’m a pervert or the worst person alive, as long as they don’t picture you doing… All the things we do. I don’t want how base and promiscuous I am with you to tarnish how people see you, does that make sense?”

I was surprisingly touched. He cared so much what people thought of me, that he thought he was damaging my reputation by daring to touch me. “Steve, that’s so sweet. But trust me, your friends aren’t thinking like that.”

“But sex and naked bodies are everywhere these days,” he grumbled. “What happened to society? Nothing’s left to the imagination. And I don’t want people thinking of you like that because of me.”

“There’s a lot of double-standards,” I agreed. “As long as your friends see me as a person, I think we’ll be fine. But I never thought before about how much nudity and sex there is in society, now.”

“Trust me, it’s a shock what’s considered ‘normal’ and ‘family friendly.’ I left America when cheesecake models and pinups were hidden under your mattress in polite families, but now, there’s a 3-story tall naked dame in the middle of Times Square. I downloaded _Fortnight_ and someone sent me the most disgusting, pornographic pictures in my DMs, I had to block him.”

“You’re from a different time,” I agreed. I thought about how difficult it was to obtain pornography, let alone hardcore porn in World War II when now it was only a click of a button away on your computer. Nanny always said at Victoria’s Secret commercials, _Why don’t they just show her naked?_ Steve came from that time, and I had to give him grace on that. He had been poor, but had held himself to high morality. It was kind of sweet that he didn’t want people thinking I wasn’t a virgin. “And it’s okay to live with your girlfriend now, too, so me spending the occasional night with you isn’t the end of the world. It’s kind of expected of couples before they marry, now. Didn’t unmarried people live together in the forties?”

“Sure, but they weren’t exactly the highest-class people in society,” he admitted.

I didn’t want to jump down that rabbit hole with him, now. He had considered the priesthood at one time before the war, too. He had a good heart, and I understood why he was concerned about me looking unchaste. I changed the subject instead. “I think it’s cute that you’re gaming,” I admitted. “Wanna show me _Fortnight_?”

* * *

“I can’t believe that Tony Stark is courting me for my internship,” I sighed, laying down on the couch, gazing up at Pepper’s card after Steve showed me _Fortnight_. It was a personal card, it even had her phone number on it. I programmed it into my phone. He had been so cute showing me how high-tech his character was in the game, and trying to explain it to me. His knowledge of computers had grown exponentially since we had met, he was teaching himself technology. His keen mind was incredible, sometimes. “I’ve got to catch up on that research paper before I go back to DC!” I jumped up from the couch and got my laptop.

“You know…. I wouldn’t mind you living here in New York,” Steve admitted. “If my landlord asks, we can just tell him we eloped.”

“It’s none of your landlord’s business,” I snorted. “As long as we pay the rent on time.”

“Well… you said couples live together these days before getting married.”

“Well, we’re halfway there, now that we’re keeping things at each other’s places,” I admitted. “But… I’ve got to keep working hard on school. I have to pass if I want to get this practicum and internship.”

“What are you doing on Valentine’s Day?” he asked suddenly.

“What? Working.”

“Oooof course,” he sighed.

“Hey, I’m not rolling in money,” I said. “I’m living paycheck to paycheck, okay? I can’t skip a holiday like Valentine’s Day at work. It’s hard enough to take a weekend off!”

“I just want to take you somewhere special, finally,” he grumbled. “You deserve it and…”

I hugged him. “If you want to go on vacation, don’t let me not being able to go keep you from it.”

“It wouldn’t be worth it to go on vacation without you,” he grumbled. “I want to celebrate that Tony wants you to work with him. It’s a big deal, your career’s taking off, and it’s Valentine’s Day and…”

I shrugged. “I want to go on vacation, too. I haven’t been on an official vacation asides from my fathers’ beachhouse since my sophomore year of college.”

“Chad never took you anywhere?”  
“No-”

“Okay, find a way to take a week off in February. That’s… _malarkey_!”

“Alright, fine. I’ll make it work, but I’m going to have to work a lot to make ends meet.”

* * *

On the train home, I decided to call my father on FaceTime since it was Sunday afternoon and the family was probably having Sunday dinner at his house. I had the whole train compartment to myself, thankfully. It had been a great trip to New York, and I had especially loved catching up with Nia at dinner on Saturday night.

After everyone greeted me, the kids wanted to do tricks for me, and Peyton showed me her forward-roll sumersault she had learned in gymnastics, and Ruby joined her. Matthew showed me a magic card trick with help of Lauren, (which I already knew, but played innocent, and gushed over it).

“So tell me what you did this weekend with Steve?” Lauren asked.

“We went to a party on Friday night. And on Saturday night, we went to dinner and met Nia for drinks afterwards. But the party on Friday night was a lot bigger,” I said, knowing I’d break her heart. “And Cardi B performed at it.”

“What?” Lauren cried, almost spitting out her sip of tea.

“WHAT!?!” Ruby and Peyton yelled behind Lauren, echoing her.

“Yeah, WHAT?” Shawn shouted in the background.

“Did you just say Cardi B?” Lauren cried.

“Yep,” I said. “I met her. In person.”

“You better have gotten pictures!”

“Steve got a few, I’ll have him send them to me,” I said.

“I’m gonna kill you! You didn’t use your own phone to get pictures? What did she do?”

“ _Bodak Yellow_ and _Who Want the Smoke_ ,” I said.

She groaned. “Oh, you suck. Did you get her autograph?”

“No,” I laughed. “Nobody does that anymore!”

The phone was passed around and Daddy had it. “Hey, sweetpea, how’s it going? How was your weekend in New York with Steve?”

“Oh, we had a great time,” I said. “I’m still sad you haven’t met him, yet.”

“Me too. Well, there’s time. When’s your next break?”

“I’ve got a long weekend over President’s Day. And then there’s Spring Break in early March, but Steve and I want to go on a vacation together. But, I can come home for Easter.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring him home for Easter?”

“He wants to go on vacation,” I admitted. “But I’ll insist on Easter.”

“I’ll buy you a ticket home, just let me know when you want it.”

“Sure will.”

“Meet anybody famous in the Big Apple this weekend?”

“Do you count Cardi B and Tony Stark?”

“No way! Tony Stark, Iron Man?”

“Yeah!”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Steve’s military, and the military works with Stark Industries,” I said.

“I was military and I didn’t know Tony Stark,” Daddy grumbled.

“Steve’s teaches strategy and tactics at West Point and the Pentagon, they use a lot of Stark Industries technology and weapons.”

“What’s his full name again?”

“Steve Rogers. Captain Steven Grant Rogers.”

“I wanna meet this Steve guy,” Daddy grumbled.

“Lining up our schedules is the hardest part of that,” I said. “I’ll get him home soon.”

“Okay, darlin’,” he said and I could hear kids in the background. “Hey, Ruby and Peyton want to sing a song for you.”

* * *

As Valentine’s Day came up, I got scheduled to work at the diner, which I hated. Steve was disappointed I couldn’t make it to New York for Valentine’s Day, but I pointed out to him that it was the busiest night of the year for restaurants and florists, and I preferred the idea of having Valentine’s Day a few days later when the restaurants weren’t a mob scene and everything was overpriced.

When Super Bowl Sunday rolled around, Steve came into town fresh from a mobilization and I took him to Alissa and Joel’s party, even though neither of us knew the teams very well. I had to explain that I really watched for the commercials and the halftime show. He wanted to leave early because, you know… sex.

On Valentine’s Day, I had class. I didn’t mind it so much, but the Marital Lifecycle class was kicking my ass. We were taking a break from lecture when the florist’s van pulled up. “Oh please…” I whispered, sweating in the icy DC air.

The florist got out of the van. “If Steve sent you flowers again today, I’m going to going to puke,” Mia said. “After he sent them to you in January. That is absolutely disgusting and unfair. I want to get flowers from somebody!”

Alissa burst into giggles and the florist emerged from the back of the van with a vase of full of roses. “They’re just in the honeymoon phase,” she giggled. “He’ll cut it out, soon.”

“Liss!” I cried.

“Could you ladies tell me where room 401 is?” the florist asked us.

“Down the hall, the elevator’s on the left,” Alissa said. “Who’s the delivery for?”

“Danielle Conyers? Do you ladies know her?”

An angry/sad squeak came out of Mia’s throat and she stamped her foot. Alissa and Kamika burst out laughing. My face went red.

“I’m gonna kill him,” I muttered.

Steve made up for it with the sweetest Valentine’s note. ... _I’ve never had a Valentine before you and you’re everything I could have ever hoped for and more._  
_With my entire soul,_  
Steve

I let the embarrassment slide.

I called him that night during a break at the diner.

“Thanks for embarrassing the hell out of me at school today.”

“I embarrassed you? How?”

“I don’t like my personal life coming out in school, and I caught so much crap from my professor and friends when I brought in a half dozen red roses because I had nowhere to put them.”

Steve laughed. “Oh, I’m good!”

“You’re in trouble, that’s what you are.”

“Did you get those days off from work in March for your spring break?”

“March second through seventh.”

“Good. I got our vacation planned out.”

“Where are we going, surf or turf?”

“Pack for surf.”

“The beach? Which one?” I asked.

“Dani?” My shift manager asked. He tapped his watch.

“I’m not telling,” Steve replied.

“I’ve gotta go, which one?”

“It’s a surprise! But get your passport.”

“Ugh! I’ll text you when I clock out.”

My night mostly consisted of serving couples and red food dye. The kitchen had a new cook in it named Barry who was constantly cracking inappropriate jokes. He was a big guy, probably Steve’s height but had at least a hundred extra pounds on him in a bad way, was balding and had a goatee beard. Every time I bent over, he’d whistle and every time I walked back into the kitchen, he’d tell me how he loved to watch me leave. I mostly rolled my eyes while he giggled at his own jokes.

By the time my shift was over, my legs were sore and my back hurt, but Ron had made ordered some chicken fingers for the staff for us to take home as we clocked out. I took three and a cup of honey mustard, and started my walk to the Metro station. I texted Steve to see if he was still awake.

Upon arriving home, I saw the lights on. There was a paper heart taped on the door that said _Don’t be alarmed, it’s me_ in Steve’s handwriting

“Dani?” I heard Steve call out. I saw my table set up for dinner, with lit candles, the roses he set me in the centerpiece, and my meager, mismatching plates and cutlery set out, along with my wine glasses. I melted.

“What are you doing here?” I squealed.

“Ow, ow, ow!” I heard him mutter.

I found him in my little galley kitchen, completely naked, standing over the stove, with a dish towel wrapped around his narrow hips. “What are you doing?” I cried. “Steven, are you insane? Get away from that!”

“I thought it would be romantic to have a naked dinner,” he said dabbing at his injured stomach. Tiny, sizzling drops of oil from the skillet had burned his washboard abs as I pushed my way to oven. He also had the heat on too high, I turned it down.

“It’s romantic, but there’s a reason you don’t cook naked, baby,” I said, moving the skillet from the eye. Little snaps of the oil sent white-hot droplets against the back of my hand.

“ _Now_ you tell me! I did not think this through.”

“You learn in time,” I said. “And the skillet was too hot. Go put some clothes on.”

I did my best to finish the chicken and the vegetables Steve had started, and he came back, wearing those flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

“There’s a reason for aprons,” I said. “Thank God you had the towel around your waist, goofy.”

“I feel pretty silly now,” he admitted.

“At least you protected your balls.”

“Danielle, language!”

I rolled my eyes. “Would you prefer me to say ‘penis’ and ‘testicles’?” I teased.

He groaned, his cheeks tinged pink and I chortled. There were some yellow-ish dots bleeding through on his shirt from his abs.

“Are you bleeding?” I asked, getting a paper towel. I lifted his shirt and saw small oil-spatter blisters oozing oily yellow pus droplets. “I’ve got some Neosporin in the medicine cabinet.” I dabbed at the spots.

“It’ll be fine,” he scoffed.

“You had the heat up on the chicken too high,” I said. “You want it to cook at a low heat for like eighteen minutes until it’s 140 degrees. If you cook them at too hot of a temperature, they get tough and chewy, and if you don’t cook them enough, you could give someone eating it salmonella.”

“Forgive me, the most cooking I did in the last four years in my memory was beans in a tin can over an open flame.”

“Did you tenderize the chicken?”

“Like pound them with a mallet?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I did that. I seasoned them, too. I meant to get steaks, but by the time I got off the train, the grocery store had sold out of all the good beef.”

“It means a lot to me that came out this way for me on Valentine’s Day,” I said softly. “And sweet that you tried to make a meal for me when I got home.”

“Well, we always have the best holidays at home,” he said, stroking my cheek. “I was trying to turn up the heat, you know?”

I long to tell him I loved him. I did. This would have been the perfect moment. “You are the best boyfriend,” I sighed. “Okay, let the chicken simmer for a few more minutes and I’m going to get a quick shower.” I stood up on my toes to kiss him. “Be right back.”

I took a quick shower and changed into a bra and panty set in red from Victoria’s Secret’s post-Christmas sale and put on a robe after shaving my legs (I usually let my leg hair go when Steve and I parted out of pure laziness, but I never wanted him thinking I had that thick Greek leg hair that ran in my family). I made sure the robe opened and revealed just a little red lace.

Steve was messing with the chicken. “How are they?” I asked.

“I think… I think they’re done, I’m just checking to see if they’re pink on the inside.”

“You use a thermometer for that,” I said, opening the drawer beside the stove.

“You and your kitchen gadgets.”

I rolled my eyes. “I was prepared to have your Valentine’s Day present for next weekend when you came to see me.”

“You got a present for me?” he asked, brows raised.

“Of course, you got me a whole vacation!” I cried, sticking the thermometer into the thickest part of the chicken breast. The needle rose quickly, getting to the 140 mark. “Okay, we can eat this, we’re good.” He got the plates. “I didn’t pay for express shipping for your present.”

He shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said, picking up his fork and knife as I served him some broccoli. “What is it? Can I at least see the tracking email?”

“Okay,” I said, getting my phone out of my purse that was hanging off the back of my chair. He took a sip of his wine. “Here ya go.”

He looked at the tracking website. It was a new easle from a really good company, Mia had had a boyfriend who taught art back in Cincinnati, and had recommended it to me. “Thank you, I can’t wait to sketch some dirty pictures of you on it.”

“I bet you will. Just don’t crack sex-related jokes right now with me.”

“Why not?”

“A new cook at the diner. He thinks he funny.”

“What did he say?”

“Oh you know how the cooks are. They love to tease the servers.”

“Do I need to set him straight?” Steve asked, standing up.

“No, sit down, I can handle it. He just says things like that for attention.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

We had a fun dinner, even though it wasn’t as sexy as he had wanted, it was nice to come home to a special candlelight dinner by surprise. I had planned to go home and watch a movie on TCM and eat a microwave dinner with Lourdes Marie, but he was here with me, now.

We had our own little party, and enjoyed our late dinner together. I told him about the couples I had waited on tonight, and the ones I was certain wouldn’t last the year. We settled into the bed with Lourdes Marie and watched _Waterloo Bridge_ since it seemed romantic, although I dozed off in Steve’s arms.

I woke up to see that I had missed part of that movie. “What happened?” I asked.

“Myra became a prostitute.”

“Well that escalated quickly.”

He laughed. “This movie is awful. I remember seeing it in the theater, and it was so dumb, I regretting spending my dime.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that when I picked it out?” I asked.

“Because I know how much you like old movies.”

“What did you want to watch?” I asked, sitting up.

“I don’t know. You.”

“Me?” I asked, blushing. “I’m gonna turn it off,” I said and climbed across the bed to turn off the laptop. I closed it and put it on the floor. “I like being close to you. Thank you for making the trek to DC to be with me on Valentine’s Day.” I settled into his arms.

“I couldn’t stay away from you today,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “What kind of boyfriend does that?”

I lifted my chin to kiss his lips. He kissed me back and he pressed me back into the mattress, stroking my hair out of my face. He had gone so far to see me on Valentine’s Day and wrote something so sweet and heartfelt in that card with the flowers, I wanted to make him happy, Especially tonight. I wished I had the courage to tell him how I felt about him, to use that word, the one that scared men away. I tugged the back of his shirt up, and he reached behind his head to yank it up the rest of the way, tossing it to the floor beside us. He ran feather-light kisses along my jaw and back up to my lips as my hands roamed his hot, smooth, bare skin, his muscles taught. I closed my eyes, enjoying his chest pressed against mine, only my bra and panties in the way, I had shed the robe when we got into the bed.

“Why don’t you ever wear pajamas like a regular person?” he teased, his hand cupping my bra’s underwire.

“You don’t _like_ it when I wear lingerie to bed?”

“I know you have a set, I’ve seen them in your dresser, the cute ones with unicorns on them. I think it would be easier to get pajamas off you than this stuff. I’m always afraid I’ll tear it or something, it’s so delicate.”

“Here,” I said, sitting up, unhooking the bra behind my back, tossing it aside. I loved the hungry look in his eyes when I had my bra off. “Better?”

“Much,” he said. I saw a boyish smirk on his broad jaw. “But what if I tear the rest, too? It _is_ made of lace.”

My thong was made of a thick lace spandex that stretched, but I humored him. “Fine,” I replied, pushing down the panties, wriggling out of them before I climbed on top of him. He sat up to kiss me, his hands gripped my butt cheeks and squeezed gently. “Lay down,” I commanded, grabbing his hands behind me. He flipped his wrist behind me and grabbed mine, holding my arms back. “Stop being so difficult, Steven!” I teased. He didn’t release my wrists, just swallowed my mock protests with a kiss. My breasts were pushed out, my nipples scraping his chest, getting harder and harder so quickly… “Are you going to let me go?” I asked, getting up onto my knees, struggling against him.  
  
“No, this is too fun, I like watching you squirm.” He lowered his head and caught one of of my nipples in his mouth. I squeaked, the heat between my legs rising so fast, I was surprised I wasn’t running arousal down the insides of my thighs. He managed to let go of one of my wrists, but catch it in the other hand, both my wrists in his grip.

“Steven!” I cried.

His free arm reached around my back and squeezed my ass cheek as he sucked away on my breast, holding me close. I struggled against him, but secretly, I liked it. “Want me to stop?” he asked.

I grimaced. “I’ll be honest, I like it,” I admitted.

He let go of my wrists after teasing me with his mouth and freehand. I, now turned on, took a moment to his down his chest, finding the oil blisters forming on his abs had scabbed over already. I nibbled on his cock before fully taking it into my mouth. He stroked my hair and I listened to his sighs and groans. I loved that I could do these things to him without him complaining and telling me I was doing it wrong.  He made me feel sexy and beautiful and I had a power over him, I knew it. My fingers grazed his balls, and gently prodded, I could feel his body seizing up from what I was doing. Normally, I’d have stopped, but the greedy side of me wanted his cum in my mouth. I felt like a slut, but I was enjoying it. My fingers grazed down under his scrotum and I glanced up to see his head thrown back, lips parted, eyes closed. Gripping him by the base, I took him further down my throat until my nose was grazing his pubic hair.

“Danielle!” I felt his body jerk slightly. “Yes!”

I grunted in response, mouth still full, trying to control my gag reflexes and not let my teeth graze anything. I slipping my finger down to the wrinkled line behind his scrotum to his hole and slipped his cock back past my lips as he started cum in my mouth. I held the head of his cock right past my lips and took the hot cum, moaning softly. When he was done, I took his spent cock out of my mouth and got up to get a tissue to spit into.

“That was not fair,” he said.

“I know,” I said, wiping my tongue. “But that was only round one.”

“You’re on.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey! Sorry about the long absence, but I finished the semester and did very well! So proud of myself! And I wanted to wait until I had a good vacation chapter between the Cap and Dani to share with all of you. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Blue

Steve kept it secret from me where we were going the next few weeks during his visits: I was certain it was a beach in Mexico. “More specific,” Steve replied.

“Um... Cabo?”

“Nope.”

“Cancún?”

“Try again.”

“Playa del Carmen?”

“Why do you keep guessing Mexico? Not even close!”

I guessed and I guessed, but Steve never confirmed it. I started using Google to find beaches all over the place to guess.

As spring break approached, I packed my suitcase and took Lourdes Marie to Alissa and Joel’s house and took a train to New York to meet Steve.

“So, I want to know where we’re going,” I said to him as we got into a cab.

“We’re going to the airport to catch a private jet to our destination,” he said.

“You are officially the worst!” I cried.

“I won’t be the worst when you see where we’re going,” he said. “But first, gyros.”

“Is that a clue?”

“No, I just wanted to feed you before we got on the plane.”

We stopped off at a gyro diner first, and had dinner. The gyro I had was incredible, and the potatoes were worth it. “You know, I pulled a lot of strings to get you this vacation,” Steve said as we got to JFK. He tipped the desk agent that met us at the gate, and gave him a flight number.

“Private flight? Your terminal is 4, and gate is 11, Captain Rogers.”

“Thanks.” Steve took my hand and we started towards terminal 4.

After security check, we got to the gate, and a private plane was waiting on the tarmac.

“Steve, what is this?” I asked as we got out the gate to the tarmac. The airport lights glimmered against the shiny paint job of the plane. “Wow…” I had been on a lot of planes in my lifetime, but never a private one.

“Okay, I don’t think I can keep this a secret,” he said. “We’re going to Monaco.”

My jaw dropped. “Like, Monte Carlo?”

“Yes, like Monte Carlo.”

“How did you do that?” I shrieked.

“I won a game of blackjack.”

The inside of the private plane was narrow, but it could have easily fit eight people and it was all white leather and mahogany wood paneling. “Do we get to meet the pilot?” I asked. “And the plane’s staff?”

A brunette with her hair in a bob stuck her head out.

“Did you you say you wanted to meet the staff? I’m in Erin, I’m usually Tony Stark’s flight attendant, but tonight I’m yours.”

I grinned. “Hi, I’m Dani Conyers. Thank you for being our flight attendant. This is Steve Rogers- _Captain_ Steve Rogers.”

“Oh, you’re a Captain?” Erin asked, a sparkle in her eye.

“Never a military pilot,” Steve said grinning. “Not officially for the military, though I do have a few flight hours under my belt.”

“Well, thank you for your service, it’s an honor to be your attendant. Can I get you something to drink? We have the drink menu on the display on the back of the seats.”

“I’d love a beer, an import?” Steve asked.

“I’ll have a…” I pressed my finger to the display, and found the drink list. “A vodka cranberry?”

“Coming right up. I can make up the Murphy bed if you’re wanting to rest on the plane.”

“There’s a bed?” I asked, surprised. “I always try to sleep on flights to minimize the jet lag.”

After the take-off, Steve and I decided to try to sleep on the trans-Atlantic flight. Erin had a benadryl, which she gave to me to help me sleep since I was so hyped up about Monaco and she turned down the cabin lights. It knocked me out for a few hours, and when I woke up, the sun was peeking over the horizon. I squeezed my way out of Steve’s arms to look out the window to see if I could see any land, yet. I couldn’t see far past the cloud cover, but I could see the beauty of the sun rising in the sky

“See anything interesting?” Steve asked from the bed. He got up and kissed my shoulder before resting his chin on it to watch the sunrise.

“Just the sun rising,” I admitted. “Do you ever watch it when you’re mobilized?”

“I forget to,” he admitted, sitting up, pushing back the covers. “And, sometimes, our jets don’t have windows to watch what’s going on outside.”

I leaned into him, still stunned that he could be real and mine at the same time. He was taking me to Monaco, one of the few countries I never got to see when Daddy was in the military. “So you said you managed to get this trip by winning a hand of blackjack… let me guess, it was a game against Tony Stark.”

“We’re staying in his vacation home in Monaco, yes,” he said. “That’s how I did it. This flight though, it’s courtesy of Pepper. Tony had no problem rubbing it in that I forgot to arrange transportation for our week in paradise when I made the bet.”

“That’s really generous of her,” I admitted. “Wanna play some blackjack?”

“Sure, but I don’t know if I packed a deck in my carry on or not.”

“Let’s ask the flight attendant?”

We checked with Erin in the galley, and there were playing cards in one of the passenger compartments. Steve mixed together about three different decks and we worked on shuffling each one before putting it together in a giant stack. “I read the book _Bringing Down the House_ , and I started practicing my card counting,” Steve said. “I knew Tony was doing the same thing- well, we had the autopilot on when we were flying back from Morocco, and we started playing blackjack for all the cash we had on hand. So, it came down to Tony and me, and this was right after that party he threw that I took you to. Anyway, I was pretty sure what was left of the deck was hot, and I knew Tony knew it too, so we started playing, and I got a queen, Tony gets a ten. Tony was dealer, too, so, you know, I didn’t trust him. I’m sitting there with a giant pile of cash when he lays down the down-facing cards, and then, we make our bets. Tony, not wanting to be outdone, puts in everything thing, and I still have the smaller pile of money. He asks me if I want to make this interesting, and I say sure. He says, ‘if I win, you have to make your girlfriend make those cookies, an entire batch, just for me.’ And I say, ‘would you bet a week in your vacation home in Monaco on that?’ His nostrils flare and he says, ‘deal.’ So, I look down at my card, and see that I have another Jack. The deck is hot, there’s an Ace left in it, right? So, I try to put on my best poker face, and Tony asks if I’m going to stay or to hit me again. I tell him to hit me one more time, and he hits my deck, then his. The air is tense, everybody’s watching, who’s gonna win, I reach down and flip over my cards, and wouldn’t you know, I got an ace. A perfect twenty one. Nat forces Tony to show his cards, and he’s got a ten, a five, and a queen.”

“He busted?”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound like him at all!”

“Nope. Everybody was congratulating me, and Tony goes to the cockpit to pout. But I decided to be the bigger man and say thank you for offering the vacation home, he didn’t have to let us stay there. He’s behind the controls, and I sit down in the copilot’s seat, and tell him that. But, he insists that we go. And then, he says, ‘I hope you’ve got a good deal on flight over, though. Tell me, does Southwest do TransAtlanic flights?.’ And it hit me. I hadn’t bet transportation.”

“Ouch!” I laughed.

“Pepper called me the next day and offered the use of Tony’s jet. I have the feeling Tony told her to, because he sure wasn’t going to let me know that.”

“I’ve read that book about blackjack, so show me how you were counting the deck?” I asked.

We spent the rest of our flight to Europe playing blackjack. I thought maybe playing strip Blackjack would be fun, but Erin was in the galley, reading a magazine. In Paris, we had to go through customs, then got back on the plane, which took us to the little airport in Cannes, France. In Cannes after claiming our luggage, we took the commuter train. Steve spoke a little French, so did I, so we got through the ticket agency pretty well.

I had never seen the French Riviera, the Côte d’Azure. It was beautiful: the ocean glittered and lapped the shore, and on the other side of the train, there were a mountainside littered with stucco houses. I had been to Gulf Shores before, and now I got why they called it the ‘Redneck Riviera’; the houses were stucco and tile, beautiful, and resembled the houses in Alabama and Florida, like the one Harland and Daddy had, only nicer.

The train went underground as we neared Monaco. “The wealthy people like it this way, nobody can spy on them from the trains,” Steve explained.

“Go figure. Isn’t Monaco’s number one export wealthy people?” I asked.

“Sure is.”

At the train station, we got off and followed the crowd out into the sunlight, which was almost blinding. We were in a mostly glass and metal downtown, a little disappointing for me, but between the skyscrapers, I could see the ocean. “The Monaco Grand Prix usually blocks off the streets in downtown and creates a loop in the city,” Steve explained. “Tony races it every year. He never wins, though.”

“A touch of resentment?” I teased.

“Just a little. But I’m here with my best girl, and we’re going to see the playground of the rich and famous for a week.”

“I am so game,” I sighed in adoration for my incredible boyfriend.

We caught a taxi and Steve had the address: Tony’s vacation apartment was in Port Hercule, by the docks with all the yachts. I had never seen so many yachts in my whole life and they were all gorgeous. This part of the city wasn’t so bland and concrete, though.

The building where we were staying was functional, state-of-the-art, and a concierge hotel. The lobby was beautiful and sunny, marble floors and the front desk. At check in, the concierge gave Steve and me plastic bracelets with computer chips in them for the building, and informed us that every service was included in our stay, including laundry, massages, spa services, salon, poolside service, bar service, transportation service, and meals.

“Tony doesn’t do things cheap, does he?” I whispered as we went to the elevator bank with a bellhop moving our luggage.

“Cheap isn’t in his vocabulary,” Steve admitted as we took the elevator up: we had the penthouse.

No kidding, the top floor.

I gawked as we opened the door to our vacation digs for the week. It was probably the most luxurious accommodations I had ever seen in real life. There was an infinity pool on one end overlooking the west side of Monaco and a full bar… and we were staying here for five days! “What do you want to do, first?” Steve asked.

“Get the airport funk off me,” I admitted. “And order brunch?”

“As you wish,” he replied, kissing my cheek.

In our bedroom, there was a king sized bed so giant, it looked like two full-sized mattresses pushed together. The bathroom was even more exciting for me: a giant bathtub with jets was in one corner, looking out over the port. I was definitely going to make use of it! I took a shower in the giant walk-in marble and glass shower stall and stretched out. It felt heavenly to get clean, and there were seven shower heads from different angles. After getting out, I dried off with one of the oversized white fluffy bath towels and Steve had ordered some brunch of crệpes and bacon. I put on a bathrobe and went out to the dining area of the apartment. Steve had the news on.

“How was your shower?” he asked.

“It would have been better with you in it,” I teased. “But good. These look incredible,” I said, picking up a fork and cutting out a bite of crepe. It was an orgasm in my mouth.

“I’ve had a few myself already. Help yourself. Do you need a nap? Do you have jet lag?”

“I’m a little weary, but I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I replied. “I don’t want to sleep through this trip if I can help it.”

“Don’t wear yourself out,” he warned as my phone rang in the bedroom. I jumped up and ran to the bedroom; it was Daddy.

“Hey, Daddy!” I cried.

“I was just calling to check on you. Where did this Captain Steve take you?”

“We’re in Monaco. He called in a few favors,” I said. “I am so excited!”

“Monaco? Monte Carlo? Are y’all going to go gambling?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet, we haven’t planned out what we’re going to do, but we just got here. Do you want to switch over to FaceTime?”

“Sure, let’s see your set up.”

I turned my phone over to FaceTime (Steve had put my phone on the WiFi) and Daddy was just having his coffee at the breakfast table, he hadn’t even shaved, yet.

“Okay, so this is a rich friend of Steve’s place,” I said. “It’s a Penthouse suite.” I showed my father the bedroom, the bathroom and the view, then went to the living area. “There’s Steve. Say hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” Steve replied over his crépes.

Daddy laughed. “What are you having for breakfast?”

“Crépes and eggs over easy,” Steve said. “We don’t know what the day’s going to bring yet, though.”

“Dani, show me the spread,” Daddy said. I focused my phone on the room service cart. “Now that looks delicious! Better than airplane food, right?”

“Actually, we flew in on a private jet,” I said.

“You’re making that up!” Daddy cried.

“No, I’m not! Like I said, Steve pulled in some favors.”

“Well, I hope the two of you take some good pictures, even though you have just enough time to recover from jet lag before coming back home. Have a wonderful time, you two. Oh, and Dani, can we talk in private for a second?”

“Sure,” I said, going back into the bedroom. I plugged my earbuds in. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You made a color copy of your passport, right?”

“Right.”

“Send a copy of it to the consulate office for Monaco and France and let them know you’re visiting. Passports, especially American ones, fetch a high price on the black market.”

“I know,” I said. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“But it is your first time to travel with a boyfriend in Europe. Where is your passport?”

“We put it in the building’s safe,” I replied. “I plan on carrying the copy.”

“Good girl. Don’t give it to Steve. Ever.”

“What?” I cried, offended.

“Sweetheart, there are things about him that don’t add up. And as much as you trust him, this is how sex trafficking begins. You’re a pretty girl-”

“I’m not _that_ pretty,” I complained.

“I’ve heard all kinds of stories from the state department of young American women being kidnapped overseas from the state department because they surrendered their identification and lost possession of it. Call me with your return flight info, promise?”

“I will,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I’m just looking out for my baby,” Daddy said. “Have fun and be careful.”

“We will,” I said. “I love you and send my love to  Harland.”

“We love you, too. Have a good time. ‘Bye.”

I took my earbuds out and went into the living area. “Okay, I’m holding out so you can have your pick,” Steve said, gesturing to the food in front of him.

“Okay,” I said, picking out breakfast from the cart.

“That’s it? I have to eat the rest of this? Don’t you know many hungry people there are in this world?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not in Monaco,” I replied. And then I remembered; he had grown up in the Great Depression and had probably gone through periods of food shortages. “I’m sorry, baby. Let’s just be careful with out food orders so that we don’t order too much. Let’s save some of it for later. What do you want to do first?”

“This trip is for you.”

“Okay, let me check Lonely Planet.”

“What’s Lonely Planet?”

“A travel website. Hm… oh, there’s a Palace Tour- oh, wait, that’s four hundred dollars a ticket, nevermind. There’s an Exotic Garden and an Oceanic Museum?”

“You wanna go to that?”

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me, sweetheart!” I joked. “Oh, there’s a museum of Prince Ranier’s cars! Let’s go to that!”

“I’d do to that,” he said.

“Okay. It’s only eight euros! Let’s do it!”

I wanted to take Steve to something good that he liked, since he had taken me to _Monaco_. We took a walk to the museum and I got to marvel at Fontvieille, and the sights in the distance, which I found out was Le Rocher, the “old city” of Monaco. Steve insisted on paying for our tickets to the museum. Prince Ranier had a beautiful collection of cars and we took so many pictures, and took turns standing beside them for perspective. Towards the end of the tour, I started to feel my head lolling, sleep trying to claim me. I had traveled enough to know not to give in to the jet lag until after dinner, at least. We came back to our apartment, and we ordered an early dinner, and ate the rest of the fruit from brunch that was in the fridge.

“Are you going to make it through?” Steve asked.

“Let’s keep moving,” I said. “I want to try out the pool!” I ran to the bedroom to change into my bikini. While the bed looked inviting, I tried to ignore it. I uploaded my pictures of Steve and me at the car museum to Facebook, but only to my family. Steve came into the bedroom after finishing his food to change into some swim trunks.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Uploading the pictures from the museum for my family to see, to assure them I’m not being kidnapped into sex slavery,” he said.

“Dani, no!” he cried.

“Relax, I’m putting a filter on them,” I said. “Not everybody can see it, only my family. They’ll love it.”

“I’m trying to stay off the internet completely,” he said. “Being on the internet is going to send some red flags up with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Oh, good point. Do you want me to take them down?”  
“Can you not upload the ones with me in them?”

“What if I cut you out of them? Or censor your face?”

“Fair. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Does joining the mile high club mean what I think it means?”

I burst out laughing. “Yes! It does!”

He groaned.

“Who asked about it?”

“Who do you think?”

I took down the pictures of Steve and started putting emojis over his face so I could upload them where my parents could see them. When I got finished, I went out to the little infinity pool with some towels and bathrobes for us. Steve was already in the pool and the sun was setting. I grabbed a few beers out of the fridge to enjoy.

I stepped in, and it felt like cool waves of heaven lapping my ankles. “Oh, that’s nice,” I said, bringing the beers over to him. “I miss the water.”

“Come here,” he said. “Look at all the boats in the bay.” I trudged into the cold water, and into his arms. “Wait a second, get onto my back.” I went around to his back and wrapped my legs around his middle, looking over his shoulder to see the port. It was easier when I was holding him around the middle with my legs than my arms so we had our hands free for our drinks. The pool wasn’t very deep, maybe five feet at the most. I rested my head on Steve’s rock-hard shoulder to watch the yachts lighting up in the encroaching darkness.

“Wanna go see the marina, sometime?” I asked. “Before we leave. And go to the beach?”

“I definitely want to go to the beach. What about the casino? I wanna see if I can count the cards at the Blackjack table.”

“Just don’t get us thrown out. I wonder if they’d let us in if we weren’t in formal wear.”

“Oh… we can find something, I bet.”

“I’d love that,” I sighed. “I didn’t bring that dress Pepper sent me, I regret it now. See, if you had told me where we were going, I’d have found a way to bring it!”

“Blaming me?” he laughed.

“I’m kidding. It’s so exciting to be here, baby. You outdid yourself. This is the best vacation I could have ever asked for,” I admitted. “And we can join the mile high club on the way home.”

“Danielle— no!”

I laughed. “You know, Steve, even before you brought me here, I knew you were the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, come on!” he scoffed. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Nobody’s ever made me feel like you do. And I’d be happy to make Tony Stark _batches_ of koulourakia to thank him for letting us stay here. Do you think he threw his hand?”  
“I’ll be honest… I think he did. He doesn’t want anybody knowing he’s a good guy deep down.”

“I don’t think he does, either, from what you’ve told me.”

He looked over his shoulder at me. “Sorry about volunteering your baking skills like that.”

“Hey, it was worth the risk.” I lifted my head to kiss him.

His lips met mine, and a small moan came out of the back of my throat.

“All I got you was a dinky easel,” I said.

“Worth it.”

We floated around the pool together, kissing in each other’s arms as the world outside went dark. I felt so safe in his arms, his hand supporting the back of my head as we kissed. I didn’t want to leave this pool. Ever. Even though our fingers and toes were pruning.

“Do you want to go to bed, now?” Steve asked.

“Eager, are we?” I teased.

“No! I was just thinking about your jet lag!” he said, grinning.

“Sure you were. I like being in this pool with you better,” I admitted. “Wanna make it interesting?” I unhooked the back of my bikini and tossed it to the tile beside the pool. It landed with a wet slogging sound and Steve’s eyes bulged.

“Danielle! The lights are up in here, people can see inside!” he cried, letting go of me to grab the remote that turned down the lights.

“If they’re working hard enough to see up here, they deserve a show,” I shrugged.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, lowering the lights so that the apartment was dim.

“This is Europe, nobody cares about boobs here,” I replied.

“Danielle,” Steve groaned, putting the remote down. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Just this! I’m on vacation, I’m going to drink and want to have sex with you, okay? What else is there to do between trips to the beach and the casino?”

He groaned and I swam over to him. “Okay, so we’re making this interesting… right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here,” he said, swimming over to me. He slipped his arms around my middle and stood up. We were almost eye-to-eye, now, and he kissed me gently. And kissed me again. “I love seeing you happy,” he admitted, eyes hooded. “It’s a drug.”

“Just keep being you,” I murmured. I felt his fingers pinch my nipples as we kissed again, hard from the water and the air conditioning, a squeak coming out of my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his middle again, and lifted my hips. He carried me over to the edge of the pool, we kissed the whole way over. His hands gripped my hips firmly and set my butt back down as my tongue passed his lips to brush his.

“Stop,” he whispered softly. “Let me.”

He pressed gentle kisses along my jaw to my ear, his fingers sliding up the bottom part of my scalp. I moaned at the sensation of my body being touched so gently. Steve continued touching, kissing, and caressing even the most mundate parts of me, like my collarbone, my arms, my knees, rubbing the arch of my feet before kissing my toes, then rubbing between them, and then working his way up my calf, all the tension in my muscles and body that I hardly ever acknowledged melting away. When he got to my hips, I felt his fingers slipping under my bikini bottoms to tug them down. I sighed contentedly as he relieved me of them, he tossed them in the general direction of my top somewhere on the tile. His fingers worked the knots out of my muscles starting in my asscheeks, up my spine to my shoulder blades. My head lolled back in relief as he kissed along my waist with hot, wet, open-mouth kisses. I hadn’t realized how was stress I was carrying with me on vacation from school.

And then he started again.

“Let me do something for you,” I begged softly.

“In a minute,” he prompted. I felt his hands grabbing my ankle, and he raised it up to the edge of the pool, near the juncture of my leg and my hip. “Lay down, first. And tell me if you don’t like this.” He took my other ankle and put my other foot up in the same spot. I laid down, nervous, hissing as my back hit the cold tile. I still had moments when I didn’t like him looking at me because I still thought my most private part of my body was weird-looking, now it was practically on display for him. He had seen it before, and didn’t freak out, though. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his lips on my inside of my knee, his hand starting to stroke the inside of my thigh.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sounded drowsy. His hand stroked down my inner thigh into cleft. I gasped at the touch. This was electric. My whole body was turned on, now, I brushed my own nipples with my fingers, closing my eyes.

I felt his lips brush down my thigh, gently, achingly slow, his warm breath tickling my skin, until they met my cleft and his exploring fingers brushed at just the right speed.

“Ah, Steve!” I breathed, reaching a hand down to stroke his hair as his tongue entered my cleft, getting to my inner lips, exploring. I felt his finger pushing into my wet entrance, making me bite my lower lip and moan loudly, my toes curling. His fingers traced and curved around my swollen lips, his tongue tracing up to my clit. He was taking his time and it was driving me wild. He pulled away, but I felt his fingers pushing my hood back, and his tongue quickly replaced the wet finger. My back arched off the tile, and I yelped. In the excitement of the moment, I knotted my fingers in the crown of his hair as I felt, _felt_ him moaning into my clit. Arousal was heating up inside me, and he was lapping it up and fingering me eagerly, two fingers slipping inside me.

Then, his fingers curved, hitting my most sensitive spot, alighting my clit, and it felt like my whole body shattered into a million pieces, and knit back together again. I screamed his name, my whole body alight, the emotional pop of the orgasm sending me over the edge. I lost control of my muscles and my legs tried to squeeze shut.

“Dani.”

A sob escaped my lips. “Yes?”

“I… are you okay?”

“‘M more than okay,” I mumbled, daring to open my eyes, splotches in my vision. My feet slid into the water. His hands rubbed the outside of my thighs as I gasped for air. I sat up slowly, and he gathered me into his arms, I slumped into him, my head laid on his shoulder like a rag doll, just rebelling in him near me.

I dared to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips. He was eager and his tongue slipped past my lips. “I want you inside me.” I mumbled between kisses.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I left the condoms in my shaving kit.” His hands gripped under my butt and lifted me up, and he carried me out of the pool, trudging through the water with my legs wrapped around his middle. He carried me into the bedroom and set me down in the bed. “I’ll be right back.” He shed his trunks and went to the bathroom, emerging with the packet.

“Come here.”

He crossed the room and pushed the athletic shorts down, revealing that beautiful v-point down on his abdomen, happy trail, and his semi-erect cock. He stepped out of the shorts, tossing the condom and the bottle of lube onto the bed beside me. I sat up, climbing up onto my knees, and kissed along his belly button down the trail, slipping my hand up his thigh. I stroked his cock a few times before taking the head into my mouth. He exhaled and I looked up to see his head thrown back, mouth open. I worked his cock again, harder, making his harder in my hand.  

“Don’t move,” he said, his eyes coming down to see me. “You look so beautiful like this,” he said, mounting behind me.

“Let me?” I offered, lowering my shoulders to the mattress, and reaching between my legs, stretching. I held his cock in my hand and guided it into my tingling entrance. He groaned softly as his head enter me. “That’s it. It’s all you now, baby.”

“You feel is good,” he said as I lifted my shoulders up, arching my back. I closed my eyes to feel him thrusting into me, reigniting me. He was chanting my name as his thrusts got more intense, deeper, and finally he came inside me, and I finally came with him.

The room was silent, save for the sound of us both catching our breath. I collapsed onto the mattress. He laid down beside me on the bed, the sheets damp from the pool water, and played with my hair, looking into my eyes.

I didn’t want to speak. This had been perfect.

* * *

I dozed off, and when I woke up, the room was pitch black and the sheets were tucked around me. Steve was missing. “Steve?” I called, pulling the sheets over my breasts.

“In here,” he called from the other room.

“Okay.”

I sat up, smelling like sex, and grabbed my beach coverup. I went into the bathroom to wash my hands and face. I was covered in dried sweat, so I took a quick shower and put on my beach coverup.

In the living room, Steve was laying on the sectional sofa, wearing a pair of athletic warm up pants and that was it, reading his phone.  He grinned when I walked into the room. “Hey. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Jet lag. I’m wide awake,” I admitted. “What are you watching?”

“BBC Skynews,” he gestured for me to lay down with him. “Nothing happening that needs us this week.”

“Good,” I said, climbing into his arms on the couch.

“What do you want to watch?” He handed me the remote.

“Let’s see,” I said, scanning channels and the DVR collection. _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ was on. “Oh my God, this one rules!”

“What is it?”

“It’s an Indiana Jones movie. The first one. George Lucas wanted to make an adventure movie that was like the serials from the 1930, so he came up with an anthropologist names Henry ‘Indiana’ Jones, who went on adventures. The special effects were state of the art at the time this was made, Daddy adores it! He’s gone as Indiana Jones a few times for Halloween in my lifetime.”

“I will never get grownups wearing costumes on Halloween. This Indiana guy needs to be something special.”

“He is, trust me. Wanna order food, too?”

“Spaghetti. I need carbs after you.”

“Ha, me too!”

We settled in to watch _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , and I ordered some mushroom sauce fettuccini from room service. By the time the sexy scene between Indiana and Marion happened on the boat where he gets her to kiss all the spots where he hurts, there was a knock on the door and room service arrived. I jumped up to get it, Steve was so enthralled. We ate pasta while the Nazis got melted, but Steve froze, a forkful of noodles at his mouth.

“He is so incredible,” Steve said as the credits, squeezing me in his arms where we laid on the couch together. “Can I be him when I grow up? Can we watch it again?”

“You know there’s three more movies, right?”

“That was amazing! There’s more? Are they as good?”

“All of them are equally as good, except the last one.”

“That was the best movie I’ve ever seen! Better than _the Wizard of Oz,_ even! I am definitely going to be Indiana Jones for Halloween, only if you’ll be my Marion.”

“Deal! Wait, _Wizard of Oz_ is your favorite movie?” I asked, rolling over to face him.

“You don’t know how incredible it was for ten-year-old me to watch a black and white movie that suddenly turned color in the middle of the scene. But this… I can’t believe this happened while I was in cryo!”

“About last night…” I purred, running my finger up the line between his pecs up his chest to his collar bone. “Did you learn that in cryo?”

Steve laughed. “The internet is an educational tool.”

“Okay, I am not doing anything you saw in porn.”

“I didn’t watch porn, love! I find it gross, but I read some articles because… because turnabout is fair play.”

I stretched in his arms. “It was incredible. But don’t let this bloat your ego.”

“So I’m better since January?”

“Baby, I’ll be honest… you are the best sex I’ve ever had.”

I saw a smirk cross his face. “Well, obviously, I can say the same thing about you.”

“Steve!” I laughed.

“Hey, uh… I’ve wanted to say this to you for a long time, maybe it’s because you’re my first… The first time we made love I knew I loved you. I do. I love you, Danielle Conyers.”

“You do?” I asked.

“Maybe I said it too soon, but-”

“Steve, shh,” I whispered, pressing my finger to his lips.

“This is new territory for me, and I’m probably just too attached to you-”

“No, I thought I was in love with my ex before I met you and that’s why our breakup hurt so much. But it’s so different this time. I’m so lucky to be with you because I love you too.”

“You do?”

“I do. I love you, Steven Rogers.”

He rolled over to put his full weight on me, kissing me. “Good, I don’t feel like an idiot for saying it first!”

“You’re not an idiot, honey,” I said as he crushed my lips with his to shut me up. His hands sliding up my thighs as his lips brushed mine.

“Are you… is this all your wearing?” He asked.

“Yes,” I purred, glancing up at him under my lashes. I burst out laughing as he glanced down and saw the coverup had ridden up and my cleft was visible.

He groaned. “All this time? You know what I have to do, now, now that we’re in love, right?”

“Yes?” I asked as suggestively as possible.

“This,” he lifted up my coverup and blew a raspberry on my belly button.

“Steve!” I shrieked, giggling.

“See, I can do that to you because I love you.”

“Yeah,” I agreed between giggles. I tugged the coverup off over my head. “Can we just hold each other for a while? Enjoy this moment?”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more vacation coming up!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence! School got to me, then work, and then I lost my writing mojo. My friend DreamWithinADream wrote a really good Steve/Darcy/Bucky fic, you should check it out! She's encouraged me to keep writing, although this story is a mess without a beta. So last time we left Steve and Dani, they were in Monaco. This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer, but I realized I needed to split it in half. Still working on the end of this monster mega chapter that's been split up, but I didn't want you thinking I had abandoned the story.
> 
> XOXO,  
> Blue

Steve and I laid on the couch, cradling each other, talking and gazing into each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours. His hot skin against mine felt like heaven, knowing this man saw past all my flaws and loved me regardless.

We were in love.

_ In love! _

I had thought for so long I could love Steve, and now, he loved me back!

When I started getting sleepy again and yawned, we sat up, holding hands 

“I think the sun’s coming up,” I said.

“Wanna try to rest some more? Or seize the day?’

“Mmmm…. seize the day. I can sleep on the plane ride home.”

I got dressed, put on some sunscreen and Steve had sent our discarded clothes to the laundry from last night, and they promised to have them back in the afternoon. I put on my bikini under my dress just in case we found a place to take a dip. Steve and I went to walk through le Rocher, the “old city” of Monaco, which was rustic and charming. We had an early lunch overlooking the Riviera together. We found a restaurant with outdoor dining, and we took plenty of pictures on our phones. Steve and I searched for the staircase to lead to the  _ Crique Ciappaira _ , a strip of beach that could only be reached by going down a steep wooden staircase in the cliff. I was expecting it to be filled with tourists, but it was picturesque, like something from a movie, a small beach at that, only about sixty feet in length, and it was bordered by giant rocks and the cliff behind us. I had brought along towels in my bag, some sunscreen, and waterproof phone cases. Steve and I sat down on the beach and watched the waves as a few other couples had made the trek down as well, but they seemed like locals. 

“I can’t wait to tell everybody about this beach,” I admitted. “This is so cool! How many people find this when they come to visit here?

“Not enough,” Steve said. “Hey, you want to swim out to those rocks over there?” he pointing at some rock formations that were large enough for two people climb up on.

“Let’s do it,” I said, taking off my sundress, kicking off my shoes.

Steve and I put our cameras into a Zip-loc bag (even though we had waterproof cases, you could never be too careful) and we started the swim through the surf. The surf wasn’t so bad, but when we got to the rocks, they were more slippery than I thought when we went to climb them. A couple of college-age guys were climbing the highest point of the rock, but I wanted to just lay down in the sun.

“I really like this,” I sighed, laying down on my back. “Thanks for suggesting it.”

“Not a problem,” he said, getting his sunglasses out of his pocket in his trunks. He got mine out, too, handing them to me, and picked up my hand to kiss my wrist. “It’s nice to be able to tell you I love you.”

“Same. I love you.”

“Hey, Dani… question… do all of your swimsuits look like that one?”

“No, you saw the one I wore last night, that one’s pink, this one is navy, and then, I brought one that’s got stripes on it-”

“No, I don’t mean the color. I mean… is it normal for women to wear those to show their stomachs like that?”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. Of course, his 1940s was coming out. “Bikinis were a thing in the forties, too. Just wait until we go to Larvotto Beach, women will be sunbathing topless.”

Steve groaned. “Please, don’t take your top off in public.”

“I won’t,” I promised, grinning, despite the pained look on his face. “I’ve got headlights going on right now.”

“I know I sound awful, but those guys up there… I think they’re watching you.”

I shrugged. “Probably because I’m so pale right now, I’m blinding!” I looked up at the boys that had climbed the rock, and they saw me. One of them leapt off into the ocean, and we watched him fall. The other one jumped seconds later.

Steve and I laid on the rock in the sunshine, and took some pictures, some of ourselves, others of the yachts on the horizon. I dozed off for a moment from the jet lag.

I woke up to Steve shouting my name. He was gone from the rock, but his voice came from above. He was at the top of the tall rock, and waved at me before leaping off into the water. I screamed, but he came up just fine.

By the time I had started to dry off, Steve and I decided to swim back to the beach. I wanted a short nap back the hotel/apartment.

The climb up the stairs on the cliff was my workout for the day. 

We took a cab back to the hotel. I sighed in relief as we walked into the lobby, holding hands, to the elevator bank. I slid into his arms as we got into the elevator. “That little beach was amazing,” I told him. “Like something out of a movie fantasy. Thank you for taking me. Even though I was wheezing the whole way up the stairs.”

“I love the way your face looks this whole trip,” he admitted, kissing the top of my head. “I love seeing you happy.”

I squeezed him with my arm around his middle. 

He kissed my temple gently. “I just want to make your face look like this everyday.”

The elevator dinged and we were on our floor. “You do,” I promised. Steve took my hand and led me out of the elevator to our suite.

At our door, I leaned in for a kiss, closing my eyes. His lips met mine. Everything I had wanted on that little strip of beach by the cliffs was him. I wished we had been completely alone, deserted. His kiss intensified as I ran my microchipped bracelet over the door lock, and heard the click. His hand snaked up the back of my neck and I released my head into his palm as he backed me inside the apartment.

He guided me into the apartment, his lips never leaving mine, his hand tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck as our tongues brushed gently in the kiss. Kissing him was amazing. And we loved each other, it made it even better.

My butt bumped into the kitchen wall. “You make me so happy. I love you,” I sighed.

“You make me happy, too. I love you,” he murmured, capturing my lips in a kiss. He was getting better at being the dominant partner, I think it came naturally with a little practice with me. His hands cupped my butt and lifted me up off the floor, I wrapped my legs around his middle. He carried me into the bedroom, and his lips never left mine. I tugged my cover-up over my head, tossing it for the floor. He laid some open-mouth kisses along my collar bone, down my breasts, now that I was in my bikini alone. I made quick work of the top in the middle of my back, exposing my breasts, which he quickly bathed in kisses. I gasped in anticipation of his mouth finding my nipple, sucking on it, his mouth engulfing it, his tongue swirling around the tip. His mouth sucked greedily on my nipple, it pebbled in his mouth. I held onto him, his t-shirt knotting in my hands, my legs wrenching around his middle, squeezing. I tugged his shirt up, and his hands tentatively released my ass, and I released his middle with my legs. He guided me over to the bed, and I backed up, pulling his hand, until I reached the bed. He and I climbed onto the bed together. Steve climbed on top of me and kissed me harder.

His pale skin was starting to bronze from our time out at the beach, his body hot under my hands as always.

“You looked so incredible when I saw you down on the rock, laying there. All I could think of was you, naked, laying down, and all I wanted…”

“Yes?”

His eyes darkened, and I shivered. His two days worth of whiskers only made him more dangerous. “I wanted your legs open so I could taste you.”

“Steven…” the shivers running down my back made my head roll back in a sigh. His hands  tugged at my bottoms. I wished I was in my string bikini for once, the tugging got harder.

“Steven, stop!” I cried, my legs unwrenching from his waist. “I want to wear this again. On this trip, possibly?” He could have hurt me, pulling and tearing the swim fabric and lining. I didn’t doubt that he could do it, though.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and kneeled down. “I got carried away.”

“Oh honey…” I sighed. “I love that you get so hot for me you want to tear my clothes off. Just remember I’m a poor grad school student, I can’t replace things that easily.” 

“I will.” His fingers very gently worked under the elastic of the bottoms, and I lifted my hips off the bed. His breathing intensified as he gazed at my newly exposed skin. I felt his fingers slide down my thigh and into my cleft. His fingers slid inside me and his thumb slid up to my clit. 

He knew exactly how to touch me, now. No fumbling and curiosity anymore. He could tease me and light me on fire. My eyes rolled up in my head and my back arched against the mattress.He managed to slid his free arm under my shoulders and pull me close, catching my mouth in a kiss. I gripped his shoulders, sliding into the kiss, one hand sliding up the back of his neck to his short hairs while we kissed. I could feel his cock hardening through his swim trunks against my thigh. “Right now,” I whispered. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he murmured into my ear, his lips brushing under my earlobe. His fingers slipped out of me, and he pulled away.

“Steve!” I cried as he got up from me.

“One of us has to be responsible,” he replied.

“I’m on the pill,” I said. He turned around and grabbed my ankles. 

He yanked me down so that my hips were at the end of the bed and I gasped.

“Baby…” I half-protested as his fingers slid up my inner thigh and back into my lips, making me clench up and gasp. His other hand parted my knees and I closed my eyes, biting my lip as his tongue slid up my wetness. I gave into my moans, breathing them out as he pleasured me with his mouth, finally articulating his name as waves of orgasm took over me. 

I wanted to lay there and just let the orgasm make me feel all floaty and tingly, but I knew I had work to do. I pushed myself to sit up.

“Take your trunks off,” I breathed, still trying to get air into my lungs. He pushed his trunks down obediently, his erection popping out as I scooted back onto the bed. Steve climbed up on top of me. I pressed hand to his chest. “Your turn.”

“What?”

“Lay down on your back.”

He did as I told him and I put my knee between his, then the other one. He was watching me, and his cock was erect and beautiful. I cupped a hand around the base and took a lick up the underside of it. It only took a moment for me to take half of it into my mouth while I pumped the base with my hand. 

“Dani- ah, God, Danielle!” Steve cried out. I glanced up and his eyes were shut, and I swirled my tongue around the head while it was nestled inside my mouth, tasting the salt of his precome, my eyes closing. His fingers stroked my hair. “Dani, stop.”

“Do you not like what I’m doing?” I asked, popping his cock out of my mouth.

“No, I love it, but… you swear you’re on the pill?”

“Yes, I swear. And I’ve got the morning after pill in my suitcase. You want to come inside me?” I asked, getting up on my knees to climb up his body. He started sitting up.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Just this once,” I said. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about where I was in my cycle. He wrapped his arms around me and he gripped his smooth cock, holding it up for me to lower myself down onto. His lips met my collarbone as I threw my head backwards. I wished I could live in this moment forever. 

 

* * *

When I woke up, I was sore as hell. Steve had gotten up from the bed as I dozed off and was in the living room. There was a wet spot in the bed, and it reminded me to grab my phone to check my period calendar app. My fertile week was a few days away. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, finding my birth control compact, measuring it against my cycle. I hadn’t missed a dose, not since I had gotten on it back in December. I looked at the Plan B pill in my cosmetics bag. I had taken it a few times in the past, the last time was after that weekend in New York with Steve at Tony Stark’s party when he had pulled out on the way home on the train. I gotten so nauseated. It was miserable. I was in the Côte d’Azure with Steve, and he had pulled so many strings to give me a memorable vacation in one of the most luxurious spots in the world. I didn’t want to be nauseated and sick for a moment. I wanted to remember this amazing trip to Steve. This trip was so short and I didn’t want to waste a second. I could take it on the way home, within 72 hours as prescribed while I slept on the plane, I could take a Benadryl with it and sleep through most of the nausea. I was already on birth control and doing great with it. I didn’t have that much time left anyway. I put my pills back and took another quick rinse-off shower. I could see Steve had been in here earlier with the dots of water on the tiles, I didn’t blame him.

I hadn’t slept a long time, though. I rooted through my suitcase and found another swimsuit and my cover up.

“Hey,” I said, walking out into the living room where Steve was eating some kind of chicken sandwich, probably from room service.

“Hey,” he said, grinning as I entered the room. 

We didn’t say anything to each other as I sat down beside him, and rested my head on his shoulder. 

“Do you want to do anything right now?”

“Can I have a bite of your sandwich?” I asked.

“Hey, I don’t share food!” he cried, laughing, holding the sandwich away from me. 

“Okay, Joey Tribani!” I laughed.

“Who’s that?”

“Pop culture reference. Do you want to go back to the beach?”

“ _ Crique Ciappaira?” _

“No, I was thinking Larvotto Beach,” I said.

“If you’re up for it, I’m up for it,” he said.

“I’m ready to go.”

By the time the car service took us to the beach, we found out it was a pebble beach, not a sand beach. As I predicted, Larvotto had topless women sunbathing in the last rays of the afternoon. I entered Steve’s combination to his personal phone (I knew to never touch the phone S.H.I.E.L.D gave him) and snapped a few pictures of the sunbathing beauties when he wasn’t looking and a selfie of me grinning conspiratorially with him in the background, the camera in my sunglasses reflection. He was in the background, eating an apple and gazing out at the sea. I was looking a little pink from the sun, while he was bronzing like a Greek God. Hey, I was the Greek one! I supposed that was an effect of the super soldier serum on him. Daddy’s side of the family sended to sizzle like bacon in the sun, me included. I applied some more sunblock and hid under the shade of the beach umbrella.

We sat on the beach lounge chairs, watching the surf, holding hands in the space between as the sun started to set. 

“Why don’t we do something you want to do?” I suggested after we sat together in a happy silence as the sun dipped below the horizon to the west. We walked back to the parking lot, and I shivered a little under my coverup as we waited for the car service.

“What I want to do?” Steve repeated. “Okay… How about we go home for dinner and then to the casino?”

“Let’s ask the concierge if he knows about the dress code policy,” I said. “But I’d do that.”   
Back at our hotel we checked with the concierge about the casino. “Jacket and tie after seven, dark colors only,” he said in his British-tinged Monocan accent. “Appropriate attire at all times for the ladies as well, but the gender type isn’t enforced.”

“Do you have a jacket and tie?” I asked Steve.

“I do, but we need to find something for you.”

“There’s also a late showing of  _ Hamlet _ in English at Fort Antoine tonight,” the concierge suggested. “You could also book a spa session here.”

“Let’s consider it,” Steve said. “We don’t have to go to the casino.”

“I have a long, dark dress that would do,” I said.

“That should suit the dress code at the casino,” the concierge said.

“Okay, take me gambling, Stevie,” I replied.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2e542o4)

Steve and I rushed upstairs to our penthouse to change clothes. I put on my sole statement necklace and rhinestone earrings and we took a car to the casino.

The casino was gorgeous in the last rays of the sunlight. I shivered a little, since the temperature was dropping, but we made it inside quickly.

“Okay, What are you gambling?” I asked as he paid for some poker chips. 

“Two hundred Euro. That should be okay to start off with.”

I gulped at the amount of money he was gambling tonight, but didn’t say anything. I took is arm and we went into the different parlours. Steve started off at the low end of the blackjack tables, he handed me his credit card and told me to buy a double scotch neat and whatever I wanted at the bar. I did as he asked, and found a bar nearby. “Can you open a tab for Rogers?” I asked the bartender, handing over his card. 

“Are you his wife?”

“Something like that,” I muttered.

I gave Steve his scotch and watched him play a few hands before becoming curious about the grounds. “Why don’t you have fun and go explore the casino?” He suggested. “This is going to get boring for you really fast.”

I got a fresh white wine spritzer and started my personal tour. I could see the pool, all lit up, and the cabanas. Parties were going on, and I went back inside. I glimpsed into the different parlours to see one that was roped off. I guessed that was the high roller table and the VIPS. I also some some extravagant dresses on women that looked like they belonged on a Hollywood red carpet. Mine looked too casual, but it was long and dark. They hadn’t thrown me out for it.

I went to check on Steve to see if he was okay, if he had busted, but his spot at the table had a bald old man sitting there. He was gone. “Someone just moved up, the blond gentleman?”

“Oh? You’re kidding!” I cried. I checked around the different parlours and found Steve at one of the tables, playing against different people, his tie loosened.

When the dealer finished the game, I approached him. “You moved up?” I asked, gazing at his growing pile of chips in front of him.

“Sure did,” he mumbled, slipping an arm behind my back.

“I am so proud!” I cried. 

“Monsieur, are you in?” The dealer asked Steve.

“I’m in,” he said, shoving a few chips forward. “If you want to go back to the hotel or something because this is getting boring, that’s fine.”

I decided to wear myself out and try to stay beside him as he won. 

The pile grew and grew, and I was getting tired. “Go home and rest,” Steve instructed me. “I’ll probably be here late tonight, don’t wait up.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said. 

Back at the hotel, I stopped by the front desk to order some dinner with a Demi-carafe of red wine before taking the elevator up.

I called Alissa to check on Lourdes Marie.

“How are you doing?” Alissa asked. “I am so jealous you’re in Monaco!”

“It is amazing. So much wealth. Stupid amounts of it. And the riviera is so perfect! But anyway, how’s my baby?”

“She came out to play some this morning. She can be so sweet!”

“Isn’t she?”

“How’s Steve? Your other baby? Getting a lot of action in, hmm?”

I blushed. “Um, duh. The world is not ready for him, I swear. Everybody watched him on the beach today when we went swimming when he took off his shirt. He took me to le Rocher, the old city, and we had so much fun. We went to this little strip of a beach and he went cliff diving.”

“Did you?”

“I didn’t want my bikini popping off. He doesn’t want me topless in public, but nobody really cares on the beaches here.”

We laughed. “You sound like you’re having so much fun. He really cares to take you on vacation like this.”

“He does… okay, I’ve got to tell somebody this,” I said, “might as well be you. Steve dropped the L-bomb today.”

“No!” She gasped. “He did? That’s great! But wait, did you say it back?”

“Yeah, I did,” I admitted, taking off my earrings. “It’s been beautiful. It’s so amazing to be in love with someone. And the sex it’s just incredible too! He’s trying out new things and I didn’t know men cared if you had your orgasm or not and… you know…” I blushed having told her so much. 

“Vacation sex is fun, but don’t miss the entire locale,” she said. “So is it the best sex ever?”

I sighed dreamily. “It is, actually. I’m so glad I never faked it with him and made him earn it.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” She grumbled. 

There was a knock on the door, I knew it was my food. I got up to go get it.

“Well, I learned the hard way with Chad.”

“So what have you done so far  _ outside _ your hotel?”

“We went to Prince Ranier’s car museum, I told you about that. Steve and I went to the casino tonight, but he had me go home because he was doing so well at the Blackjack table. I think… I know he started with like two hundred Euro tonight, he’s up to the ten thousand Euro table by the time he sent me home. We talked about going to Nice tomorrow, and then to the Oceanographic Museum and back to the beach if there’s time on our last day. Or getting a couples massage in the morning. I’m running a bath right now, this bathtub is incredible.”

“Like a garden tub?”

“No, more like a jacuzzi. And they have bath oil samplers waiting for me. I don’t want to leave!”

“I wouldn’t, either,” she admitted. “The pictures you’re posting make me so happy for you. And you’re in love on top of that, too! I hope you and Steve have that fairy tale story, you know?”

“I hope so, too,” I admitted. “I am so lucky to have him in my life. Really, I am. Okay, I’m gonna take a bath and get some sleep. I’ll check in with you on Lourdes Marie before I leave, okay?”

“Alright. Have a great time.”

“I will. Can’t wait to see you.”

“You too. ‘Bye.”

I hung up with her and shed my clothes to take my bath. Climbing into the tub, I hissed at the feeling of the hot water against my sun-kissed skin, but sank down into it. 

I laid in the nourishing, relaxing water for a few minutes, just reveling in this incredible vacation, the magic between Steve and me. Would it carry over to stateside? I watched the yachts in the darkness sail through the bay, their lights dotting the horizon. 

I missed Steve terribly at this moment. He’d have tried to wash my hair and scrub my back for me, then after drying his hands off, sketch either a naked me in the bathtub or the boats in the harbor. While I was sore from the frequency of sex we had had, I didn’t regret it. I wanted to do it all the time here. 

I got out after the water cooled off and dressed in some pajamas and watched some  _ Outlander  _ on the TV. It was almost ten, and Steve wasn’t home, yet. I fought the jet lag, but it eventually won.

I woke up to my phone buzzing. Steve had texted me. 

_ Great news. Just wait’ll I get home! _

I looked at the clock, and it was almost four in the morning. Had he really been out all night?  _ Where are you? When are you coming home?  _ I texted back.

_ I’m on my way home. Really good news! _

Scratching my head, I sat up, and turned on the lights. I got up with a throw blanket wrapped around me and went into the living room. I sat down for a few minutes and started to nod off when the door lock clicked and opened.

“Dani!” He cried, eyes wild. “You’re never gonna believe it!”

“What happened?” I murmured.

“I can’t believe I did it, either! I made over a million dollars the Blackjack table tonight! I got in with the high rollers, and I did it!”

“You what?” I asked, stunned.

“Nothing but the best for us from here on out!” he said elated. “I managed to win exactly _ one point one million _ Euro tonight.”

“What?” I cried, wide awake. 

“Yes. We can get married and I can give you the life you deserve. You’ll have your own home in New York, and we can pay off your student loans and- it’ll be the American dream for us. We can get married here.”

My head spun. “Married?” I repeated. I coudl return to the US with Steve…  _ as his wife _ ?

I had thought about marrying Steve, although I hadn’t spoken to him about it. He was everything I could have wanted in a husband: he was intelligent, hard-working, creative, my knight in shining armor.

“Danielle Conyers, marry me. Right now, right here.”

My jaw dropped. “Yes! Yes, Steve, I’ll marry you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffie! But I find all sorts of cute picture of Steve Rogers on Pinterest, I had to add that one in. I hope you liked it!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave the cliffie alone!
> 
> Some of it I might rewrite, I'm not 100% happy with it

I had put on my maxi dress and jewelry, and make-up, and Steve and I had started planning. This place was so similar to Vegas, there had to be a quicky wedding chapel around here. 

Steve was pacing and listening to the messages on the phone.

“What’s the news?” I asked, sitting down on the couch to do my makeup.

“Concierge has me on hold,” he said. “Just a second.” He listened to the phone. “Hi, Steve Rogers, I’m in Tony Stark’s suite? Yes, I had a question: is there a non-denominational wedding chapel in Monaco?...” I held my breath, watching him. “Okay… okay… No, we’re both American…” His shoulders slumped. “Okay, thank you.” He hung up.

“What is it?” I asked.

“They said we’d have to be citizens of Monaco for thirty days before we could legally marry in Monaco Principality, and we should check with the American consulate in Monaco on the legalities.”

“But the consulate’s office for Monaco is in Nice.”

“We’ll go to Nice, then. Maybe it would just be easier to married there,” he suggested.

“Okay, let’s do that. I don’t care where we get married, as long as I come out of this as your wife.”

“Alright, let’s see if we can call the American Consulate Office in Marseille,” he said, typing into his phone. “Okay, it doesn’t open until nine am.”

I groaned, looking at the clock on the wall: it was five-thirty. “Why don’t we get breakfast first?” I asked.

“Sounds good, then we can find rings.”

“After we talk to the Consulate Office.”

“Deal. Let’s do this.”

We took the car service to breakfast, and the concierge recommended Valentin’s. It opened at 6:30, and I was so anxious. All I could think about was coming back to America as Steve’s wife. We got to Valentin, and they were just opening, and Steve and I sat down. We ordered breakfast and coffee, and my hands were shaking, I could hardly stir the cream in my coffee.

“What does it say about getting married in France?” I asked.

Steve typed into the phone. “Okay… I’m sorry, Dani…”

“What is it?”

“It says we need to have a civil ceremony in the US for it to count. France doesn’t grant civil weddings to non-residents, but we can have a religious one. Let’s find a church in Nice that’ll marry us.”

I sighed. “No.”

“What?”

“Steve, I want to marry you for real. I want our wedding to count.”

“It  _ does _ count if it’s in the house of God.”

I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes. “Baby…”

“We can do the civil ceremony when we get back to New York.”

“Okay. Okay, let’s see if we can find a church in Nice.”

“A Catholic Church…. Okay, there’s  _ Notre-Dame du Port  _ and  _ Église Saint-Pierre d'Arène _ . There’s all kinds of Catholic Churches in Nice.”

“That’s promising!” I was nervous and panicking. Could we get married?

We took a taxi to find out that there was a moped rental spot. Steve rented a moped and we started the trip to Nice, watching the sun rise as we started the thirteen mile trek to Nice. 

I was reminded of our first official date as I listened to the roar of the moped while watching the sun rise over Steve’s shoulder. I squeezed his middle tighter, and he ran his hand over  mine, rubbing it for a moment, before picking it up and kissing my knuckles.

We were going to be  _ married _ .

I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be someone’s wife. An amazing man’s wife, a man who dedicated his life to protecting others.

We arrived in Nice, and started going around to the different churches to see what we could find. Few of the churches had their offices open, yet. Steve and I went around to see if we could find an office that opened, only to find that none of them opened before nine.

“We’ll find a priest. We’ll find rings,” Steve promised me, taking my hand as we trekked through the old city. 

A priest. Rings. 

Who would walk me down the aisle?

Who’d witness the wedding?

Of course, we’d have to marry in New York.

Maybe we could do it in Nashville, instead.

The city started to come to life.

“How do we tell my parents?” I asked Steve.

“Wow… well... uh… We’ve got to get you a white dress, too.”

“I…”

I looked down at my dark maxi dress. The skirt was wrinkled where I had bunched it up so it wouldn’t get caught in the wheel spokes of the moped on the way down.

“Do you need your father to be there?” he asked.

I thought about it. I had been so excited when he asked me to marry him. Daddy would understand, right? I wasn’t sure. But at the same time, I just wanted to leave Europe as Steve’s wife. 

We went around the old city to see if we could find another church. “Maybe we can find a protestant church,” I suggested.

“They’re not… we have to get married in a Catholic one, though.”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s a sacrament in the Catholic church, it’s just a ceremony in a Protestant church,” Steve said.

I slipped my arms around his middle. I didn’t want to fight, especially if this was our wedding day. “I love you,” I said. “Does it matter?”

Steve sighed. “Let’s see if we can find a white dress.”

We trekked through the old city of Nice looking for a dress shop with a simple white dress, a jeweler, and a church with an open office.

“They make you do a pre-marital counseling in the Catholic church in America,” I said.

“Pre-marital?” Steve repeated. “Why? It’s not like we’re fighting or disagreeing or anything.”

“We go over things like family planning and finances and…”

“We’ve got plenty of money,” he said.

“No, a million dollars goes really fast in America these days,” I said. “Tony’s place we’re staying in? You couldn’t buy that for a million dollars these days.”

“You couldn’t?”

“No. Steve, you’ve got to manage that money. The government’s going to want a piece of it. And if I’m your wife, I’m going to have a say in how we spend it.”

“You care about things like finance? I’m going to give you everything-”

“No, I want us to make financial decisions together.”

Steve and I stood in the alley in the old city, stunned. Steve still carried the 1940s mentality that the man earned the money and decided how it was spend, the woman got an allowance. He was still learning about how modern, feminist couples operated in America. I knew he wanted to make me happy, but being a kept woman wasn’t my idea of security. Steve didn’t know that. What else had we not talked about that we needed to? We  _ needed _ pre-marital therapy and finance advising. But Steve had proposed to me because he thought if he had enough money, he would be enough of a man for me. 

“Baby, I do love you. And marrying you is something I’ve fantasized about for a long time, long before you won that money at Blackjack. You’re enough for me. But, we need to talk about a lot of things and make some decisions before we walk down the aisle,” I said.

“I want to marry you,” he said.

“Me too,” I said. 

“But we have to jump through all these hoops, now? What’s happened?”

I bit my lips together. I wanted to marry him, too. Why was it so difficult here in France? And Monaco? Why not just wait until we got back to the States?

And then, I thought about things. I wanted my father to walk me down the aisle. And I wanted to have Lauren be my Matron of Honor and Alissa, Mia, and Kamika as my bridesmaids. And I wanted to get married in the church. I had always envisioned a church wedding. I wanted Matthew to be my ring-bearer. I thought about him: I knew he’d be broken-hearted if I got married and he wasn’t there. Ruby and Peyton would lose their shit if they missed an opportunity to be flower girls, too. Shawn would want to be a ring-bearer, too. I had no excuse for them to get married without them there. And Lauren.... Lauren hadn’t met him, yet. Nobody in my family had. I had learned so much about what made a marriage work, and part of it was planning and the pre-marital phase. We weren’t doing that.

“I want my father to walk me down the aisle and give me away. And my family to be a part of this. You haven’t even asked Daddy for my hand.”

I saw his frown deepened in his features.

“I love you, Steve, but I can’t get married without my family there.”

“I don’t have a family, Dani.”

“I know. And you haven’t met mine, yet.”

He didn’t say anything, but an expression of guilt crossed his features. 

The panic started setting in. “Baby, I don’t want to break things off with you. But, we’re not doing this right. I want to do this the right way. I’m sorry, I can’t marry you just yet. Not on a whim, on a high. But I do want to be with you. There are so many things we need to work out. Can we just stay together and call off this engagement for now?” I asked.

“I can give you a good life, Dani.”

“You already  _ are _ one of the best things in my life, but so is my family. I want you to be a part of it, not a surprise to it. My family’s great. And I know they’ll love you.”

“I know they are,” he said, gathering me up in his arms.

“And we just said ‘I love you’ yesterday for the first time,” I said into his ear. “And I wouldn’t be against a long engagement, but...”

He squeezed me. “Alright. Okay… let’s just be in love for now.”

“Okay... thank you for understanding.”

“I don’t even know you middle name. It’s not on your driver’s license.”

I chortled into his chest. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” I chortled.

He did, too, squeezing me. “I guess… I guess we’re not ready to get married.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we are.”

“Steve,” I said softly. “You are a good man. An honorable man. And I like the idea of being your wife. But let’s do this the right way.”

“You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who wants to talk a man out of proposing!” 

* * *

 

I was relieved that Steve and I had agreed we weren’t ready to marry yet. It took the pressure off this entire trip. We ended up taking a walk through the old city of Nice. It was beautiful, pastel buildings with iron latticework.

“I feel like I’m in a James Bond movie from the 1960s,” I said as we walked through. There was a beach on the otherside of the main drag, like Larvotto beach, it was made out of stones, but these were grey rocks, sanded smooth by the surf.

We had an early lunch at a bouchon, realizing we were both starving. We had traditional French dishes and some wine, afterwards. We walked hand-in-hand down the narrow streets and got “lost” in the beautiful alleys and corners until we came down the main boulevard. 

“I could live here,” I sighed. “I could open a small practice, and you’d have beautiful light almost every day of the year to draw in. We could go swimming every day on the beach at lunchtime, and maybe it’d be a better location for your job, too.”

“I don’t think I’d get the okay,” he admitted. “But, I think we need to travel here every year. Just you and me and… just have time to ourselves without demands.”

“I like that idea.”

He backed me into one of the stucco walls and I shivered, despite the pleasant weather. “Nice to hear,” he whispered, his lips only a breath from mine. We kissed and I felt the warmth through my whole body. 

“I love you,” I whispered between kisses and his hands snaked up to cradle the back of my head.

The sharp whine of a Vespa motor tore past us and some kid, no older than thirteen, shouting some taunt in French with a girl on the back, made an obscene at us with his tongue between his first two fingers.

“Maybe this is a bad spot to make out,” I admitted.   
“Maybe,” he agreed. “Hey, look where we are.” He pointed upwards and the hanging shingle said  _ bijoutier _ with a diamond beside it. He took my hand and pulled me inside. The bell on the door jangled, and an old man was behind a glass counter filled with glimmering jewels of all kinds of hues.

“ _ Bonjour, come ça va? _ ”

_ “On va bien,”  _ Steve said.

“You’re Americans?” the jeweler asked.

“We are,” he said. “We were just curious, I’m looking to buy something for my girlfriend?”

“Steve!” I hissed. 

“Let me show you some of my fine pieces,” the jeweler said. “What’s your budget?”

We showed us some rings, bracelets, earrings and necklaces, and in the end, we found a beautiful pair of sapphire earrings within Steve’s named budget. “Are you sure you want to buy these?” I asked.

“I’m sure,” Steve said. “Hey, I’ve got the money.”

“Could I interest you to in a set of rings?” the jeweler asked.

I saw his eyes light up. “No,” I said. 

He blushed a little. “The earrings will be fine,” Steve said.

* * *

When the darkness fell, the city changed. It was fun, dark, almost like vampires lived there. “Don’t you think, since we’re in love, we  _ should _ talk about marriage?” he asked. “I knew plenty of people who got married and hardly knew each other before we shipped out to Europe.”

“People don’t do that these days,” I said softly. “Besides, the divorce rate spiked after World War II ended, most it was those couples you knew who got married before the soldiers shipped out. Don’t you want a prenup for that million Euro you just won?”

“A prenuptial agreement? What the heck is that?”

“It’s when a couple agrees that if they divorce for certain reasons- like cheating-”

“I’d never cheat on you!” he said indignantly, insulted. “Or walk out.”

“As long as you can communicate with me and we stay a team, I don’t see cheating or walking out being a problem. I could never feel what I do for you with anybody else, but, sometimes, marriages become loveless, and there’s no reason to stay together. It only takes one partner to end the marriage and get a divorce.”

“Doesn’t that make them the guilty party?”

“Guilty of what? Divorces are no-fault since the 1970s. You missed that.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you can leave a marriage if it’s just not working out, you’re fighting too much and you don’t agree on stuff.”

“I guess… But we’re Catholic. Catholics don’t divorce. They stick it out.”

“My parents didn’t.”

“That’s right… But…”

“They got an annulment approved by the Vatican.”

“But you lived with your father after the divorce… I’ve been wondering this for a while, but… did your mother do the cheating, not your father? He didn’t walk out, did he? It wasn’t her that walked out?”

“What! No!” I cried. “Honey, you can leave a marriage for a lot less than cheating or abandonment these days. Daddy divorced _ her _ , she didn’t want the marriage to end because he was her meal ticket, but he couldn’t stand being married to her any longer.”

“Back in my day, if people were that miserable in a marriage, one of them would just go out and have a one-night-stand to have a reason to divorce in the courts. Usually, it was the man.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s depressing.”

“It is. Let’s not talk about this any more and just enjoy ourselves.”

“I can agree on that.”

A trio of street musicians were playing a slow waltz on the boardwalk. “Care to dance?” he asked.

He drew me into his arms.

“I’d dance with you any night,” I whispered as we danced on the boardwalk under the stars.

We bought some souvenirs for Alissa and Joel to thank them for keeping Lourdes Marie, some for my cohort friends and some for my family for when we went home at Easter and discussed it over dinner in a little bistro in the old city. Steve wasn’t on call on Easter and when I invited him to Nashville, he agreed to go with me.

After bought some salted french bread, butter, and gruyere cheese, and a bottle of red wine, we took the moped back to Monaco in the moonlight. By the time we arrived back at the apartment/hotel, Steve had to return the bike, and I took my time to take another bath while watching the bay in the moonlight, nibbling on a chunk of buttered bread with cheese on it. It was literally the best thing I had ever tasted in my whole life.

While I never wanted to leave the French Riviera, I knew we had to go back to our daily lives. I wanted that degree and the ability to practice counseling, but I wanted to be with Steve, too. A marriage would be a dream come true, but we had to work on this. There was a lot he didn’t understand yet about marriage and divorce in the modern world. But we loved each other and this was an adventure. This was a once-in-a-lifetime trip for me and I felt so lucky. It had been magic.

I sank into the tub with a few tea votive candles lit and watched the moon. It was so perfect tonight when I heard the door to our unit open.

“Hey, beautiful?” Steve called.

“I’m in the bathtub,” I called.

“Hey,” he said, sticking his head into the bathroom. “This is how you want to spend your last night in Monaco?” 

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Not too disappointed, are you?”

“If I had won that money sooner, I’d have rented a yacht to take you out to dinner on for our last night here.” he said.

“Knowing my luck, I’d have gotten seasick,” I laughed. I knew ship captains could marry people in international waters. Instead, I wanted to have sex again, even though he had left me sore from yesterday. “You could just get in with me?”   
“Asking again?”

“Yes,” I said.

He grinned and pulled his t-shirt up over his head. “Okay, if you think I’ll fit.”

“It’s a big bathtub,” I said, squeezing my knees up to my chin in the middle of the tub.

He stripped down and climbed in behind me. I leaned into his chest and melted into him. “Is this as good as being married?” he asked, running his wet hands over my shoulders.

“Definitely,” I sighed, crossing my arm over my chest to take his hand. I laced my fingers into his.

We watched the yachts sailing in the bays, and suddenly, a golden light shot up from the middle of one, and exploded in the air in a globe of champagne-colored sparks. “Fireworks!” I cried. “Isn’t this perfect?”

“It is,” he agreed, squeezing me gently. I turned my head to kiss him, and he caught my lips. “Of everyone in the world, there is no one I’d have rather spent this trip with,” he said gently, his thumb rubbing my temple.

We watched the fireworks from the bathtub with the candlelight dancing over us, his hands stroking my shoulders. It felt so good, his hands wet on my skin. I wished I could feel like this all the time.

The last firework shot up into the air and exploded.

“That’s it?” he asked. There was a long silence in the smoke-filled sky. “I guess so.”

“It was great,” I admitted.

“Do you want to stay here forever?”

I thought about how much fun Monaco had been, all the things we had seen and done, and the adventures we had had. I knew there would be other locations and adventures I’d go on. But none of them would seem as magical if they weren’t with him. And in reality, I needed that degree if we ever wanted to dream about living in the Riviera, first. I had no idea if my degree credits would even transfer to a school in France. “No. But I do wish I could have an adventure every day with you.”

I saw a gentle smile hint at the corners of his mouth. “For the fun adventures, I feel the same way.”

“You don’t want me on  _ all _ your adventures?”

“Do you forget what I do? I wouldn’t take you to a war zone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh. Duh. That makes sense.”

He pressed a kiss to my temple. “S.H.I.E.L.D. laid down the law with me about you.”

A chill ran through my veins. Was he dumping me? Was it because I agreed to get married and then changed my mind?

“They said you could put me in a position where I’d be compromised if the public knew about us.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means… I will have to wear the mask forever in combat. S.H.I.E.L.D. has enemies. They can’t know who I am, because if they did, they’d be able to find you easily. And you’re very vulnerable without me around.”

“Again, what does this mean, Steven?”

“Things aren’t going to change. That’s why I asked you not to put pictures of us up on the internet, not even with filters so only your family could see them,” he said. “Not my face, at least. Even if I’m not tagged on that Facebook app, the enemies of S.H.I.E.L.D. are watching what Captain America does. My worst nightmare is something happening to you because of me.”

I nestled into his chest. “How do you think I feel whenever you’ve been called into combat? I’m terrified every time you leave.”

“I know. It’s just the soldier’s life, though, honey. But I’m basically made for combat. You’re not. You’ve never even done basic military training.”

He was right about that, not even that night Natasha kicked my ass trying to teach me basic self-defense counted. “Okay. I will never share pictures of you with me on the internet. Ever. Just to appease S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you enjoy this bath to yourself,” he said. “I underestimated how fun a bath could be with the right person.” He kissed my cheek again before getting out. “I’m going to order some midnight snacks.”

“Try the bread with butter and cheese, it’s so good, it’s like the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” I suggested, as he wrapped the towel around his narrow hips.

I scrubbed down and shaved while he ordered something for us from room service. Steve came back into the bathroom. “Ready to get out?”

“Yep.”

He slipped an arm around my shoulders and helped me up, and retrieved a towel for me. After I dried off and put on a bathrobe, we watched some SkyNews until the dinner cart arrived, ate a little bit, and climbed back into bed.

“I wish we could pause the world and stay right here forever,” I whispered into his neck.

“Me too. Why does the world have to go on spinning?”

“I don’t know.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished a huge around of grad school tests and I think I passed! Woo-hoo! 
> 
> And you may have noticed I removed "fluff" from the description. I finished the story, save for a few lemons, but it got really dark really fast at the end.

I did not want to go home. At all. I tried to be cheerful with Steve as we boarded the flight in Nice, although I felt like choking on the Plan B pill.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing my shoulders as we stepped into the private jet’s cabin.

I gagged as I swallowed the pill, remembering what it was like the last time I took it. “I’ll be fine if I can just sleep through this whole damn flight.”

“What is it?”

“I just took the Plan B pill,” I said.

His expression hardened. “Dani, you said you were going to take that three days ago!”

“There’s a seventy-three hour window,” I said. “Wanna see the package?”

“I’ve read the label, but it’s more effective-”

“I get really nauseated when I take it,” I said. “That’s a side-effect. And I don’t enjoy it!”

“Hi,” Erin said, coming out of they galley. “Welcome aboard! Can I get the two of you anything to drink?”  

“A Stella Artois,” Steve said.

“I’ll have the same,” I said, getting the blister packet for the benadryl out of my purse. “Can you set up the bed? I want to sleep through the flight to New York.”

“I’ll be happy to,” Erin said. “Right after takeoff.”

“Thank you.”

“Dani,” Steve whispered as she disappeared into the galley. “If the morning-after pill makes you so sick, why didn’t you tell me?”

“In the heat of the moment, I wasn’t going to make you go get a condom.”   
“We’ll be better about it, and we’ll both have them around at all times” he agreed. 

“I’m on the pill anyway, and I am so careful about taking it,” I said to sooth him. “I bet we’ll be fine.”

“If anything happens… please tell me.”

“I will.”

After we had our beers and I took my Benadryl, we laid down to take a nap. Erin woke me up when we landed in JFK, (Steve woke up and watched  _ Raiders of the Lost Ark _ again without me while I slept). I felt like a deflated balloon as we caught a cab to his apartment for the night. The nausea was hitting me from the pill.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, stroking my hair in the back of the cab.

“I’m nauseated,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry,” he kissed my temple.

“I’m getting vacation hangover, too,” I muttered. “I have to go back to regular life.”

“I know you wanted to stay there-”

“I’d be okay with regular life if you were there to come home to,” I sighed. “But, you can’t relocate to DC, and I want that degree. I’m to transferring and starting over. GWU was my dream school, and I’m proud I got in. I’m adamant about that.”

“That’ll be fifty-two-fifty,” the cabbie said as he pulled up in front of Steve’s building. He handed over his card.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said. “Timeline. Right?”

“Right.”

We got out of the cab to lug our suitcases upstairs. Steve took mine and wouldn’t let me touch it. We took the elevator up to his apartment.

He immediately ran a bath for me, and we discussed what tomorrow’s ride home for me would look like while he kneeled next to the tub to wash my hair for me. “How’s the nausea?”

“I don’t want to live,” I mumbled.

“Don’t say that. I’m making up the bed so you can just try to sleep it off.”

“It’ll be fine in a few hours,” I mumbled, remembering the last time I took it. “But I’m going to make a batch of koulourakia for Tony Stark before I go back to DC.”

“Okay. Do you want something? Like anti-nausea medication?.”

“That would be great,” I admitted. He got up to dry his hands and make the call.

I got out of the tub and got dressed when I heard the door buzzer. I took the anti-nausea medication and did some reading for school. Within an hour, I started to feel less dizzy, but it was getting dark out. 

I wanted to get started on a batch of koulourakia for Tony Stark first thing in the morning. Luckily, we hadn’t stayed in Europe long enough for our (my) circadian clock to reset. I collapsed in bed, exhausted from all the energy I had expended from the nausea. 

I woke up to the door shutting, the morning light was just starting to rise.

“Steve?” I called.

“It’s me.”   
I sat up in the bed.

“Feeling better?”

His impressive form darkened the doorway to the bedroom. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.”

“Where did you go?” I asked, looking at the clock. It was five-forty in the morning.

“For a run. And I bought a few things at the pharmacy.”

“Like what?”

He sat down on the bed beside me and dump out a small paper sack. There were two boxes of our favorite brand of condoms came out. “I’m so proud of you,” I teased.

“I didn’t order them on Amazon this time, either.”

“Wanna try them out?” I asked.

“Well, if you insist.” He leaned in for a kiss, but I pushed him away.

“Morning breath!”

“Hey!”

“Not you, me!” I cried, tossing the covers back.

“See, I love you enough that I’d kiss you even if you  _ did _ have it and not say anything,” he  said, standing up to take off his t-shirt. 

“And I love you enough to not subject you to it,” I said, my words muffled with the toothbrush in my mouth. 

“That means I love you more!” He was getting out of his athletic pants and shorts, so I knew he didn’t want to waste time. 

I almost gagged myself with my toothbrush, brushing the back of my tongue. “No, I do!”

“Hurry up!”

I spat and rinsed my mouth. “You are so impatient!” I cried, wiping my mouth off. Since he was already naked as a jaybird laying down on top of the covers, I had to get out of my clothes, too. “Dork,” I added in as I mounted the bed. 

We kissed for a few minutes, hands roaming each other’s bodies. A part of me panicked that the magic of Monaco wouldn’t carry over. I wanted it to. His fingers found my nipples and pinched lightly, and I felt it deep in my pelvis, arousal building. 

“Steve…” I whispered between soft kisses. “Let me.” I stroked his hardness, alternating finger-light ghosting the sensitive juncture his thigh to his hip. He bit his lower lip and threw his head back, eyes shut, sighing. 

I kissed my way down his chest, down his cut abs, and kissed along the line of his pelvis. Steve’s hand stroked my hair. “You make me happy,” he said softly. “You’re so good.”

“Lay back,” I said, and he obeyed. I pulled my hair back with my hand and took his cock in another. Loving him with my mouth came naturally, now, I used to hate doing this, now I loved it. At least on him. I ran my fingertips up the juncture of his hip and thigh as his cockhead hit the back of my throat, and I felt the ripple of pleasure strike through him, and heard it. He wriggled a little under me, and I stroked under his balls as I started moving my head up and down, winding my other hand like a corkscrew around the base of his cock. I was ready to make him cum right into my mouth, I sped up my movements. He didn’t disappoint. I loved his strangled cry when he came, and I drained him.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, sighing.

I got up from the bed to spit and rinse my mouth out in the bathroom sink.

“You’re coming back to bed, right?” Steve asked from the bed. 

I swished some water and spat. “Of course.” I dabbed at my mouth with the hand towel. As I climbed back onto the bed, he sat up and grabbed me by the waist and tossed me onto my back. 

“Your turn.”

My worries about the magic of Monaco evaporated.

 

* * *

The next morning, I went down to the market down the street and got some eggs and butter to take home and get started on koulourakia while Steve went running. By the time he got back, I had started on moulding the little cookies and baking. I realized I didn’t have Tony Stark’s mailing address, and I couldn’t very well just waltz into Stark Tower and drop them off. And honestly, around koulourakia, I didn’t trust Steve not to steal a few (or ten) for himself. I retrieved my phone and dialed Pepper Potts.

“Pepper Potts,” she answered briskly.

“Hi, this is Danielle Conyers,” I said.

“Oh, Dani! Hi! Good to hear from you! Did you have fun in Monaco?”

“I had a great time, send Mr. Stark my thank-you for letting us stay in his place. It was a trip of a lifetime. Very eventful.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“Okay, so do you know the deal in how Steve managed to procure that apartment for a week from Mr. Stark?”

There was a long pause, and I wondered if Pepper was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, I know,” she said, a smile in her voice.

“Well, I don’t feel like that was a fair bet, so I’m making a batch of koulourakia and I don’t trust Steve to deliver them. Could I send them to your office and you make sure Mr. Stark gets them? I don’t have a proper mailing address for him.”

“Of course. That is really sweet of you. And I promise, I won’t steal any for myself, I don’t have time to squeeze in another pilates class to enjoy them guilt-free this week.”

“Thank you.”

“So, I’m curious, you said it was an eventful trip?”

“In a few ways, yes.”

“What happened?”

I blushed. “Well, Steve managed to win a million dollars at the casino one night.”

She laughed. “No kidding? Playing Blackjack, I bet.”

I laughed. “Yeah. And um… No, I don’t want to be unprofessional with you.”

“Unprofessional? Please. We all need a girlfriend to unload on sometimes, we’re kind of a sisterhood, dating superheroes.”

“Well… Steve told me he loved me.”   
“He did?” Pepper cried, excited. “That is great news! I’m so excited for you two! I take it you feel the same way?”

“I do.”

“Aww! I’m so happy for you!” 

“We almost ran out and got married. We found out the hard way we can’t and have it count in the US.”

“What? Did you-”

“No! No, we did not! We’re not engaged even or… we have lot of things to work out before we even get engaged. He’s going to meet my family over Easter.”

“You think he’s ready?”

“Nothing can prepare him, you haven’t met my family,” I joked.

She laughed. “I’m sure they’re not that bad.”

“They aren’t, but it’s been so long since we’ve been together and he hasn’t met them in all that time. And… I just couldn’t get married without my family being there. And it kinda bites for Steve because...”

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll be honest with you, Dani… The Avengers are Steve’s family. He’s kind of the old man of the group, but you bring out the young man. But deep down, he’s a sweetheart and I think he’s waited seventy years for a woman like you. We’ll be seeing each other a lot now, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I think so,” I agreed. 

 

* * *

“You know I hate sending you off like this,” Steve said as we walked through Grand Central Station together. We had dropped off the koulourakia at Pepper’s office with a hand-written thank you note from me for Mr. Stark, even though she was in a meeting, and had gone to the train station.

“I wish you were coming with me,” I sighed. “They say DC’s nice in the springtime. I hope my allergies are better in DC.”

“I forget what allergies were like.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

“Okay. Give Lourdes Marie my love and we’ll see each other a week from today, right?”

“Right,” I agreed. I stood up on my toes and kissed him good-bye. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“You two get a room!” some New Yorker shouted at us.

“Barf,” I muttered.

“This is just New Yorkers,” Steve brushed it off. “Send me a text when you get to DC.”

“I will.”

The train ride home was sad to me. I had had an amazing time, one of the best vacations I had ever taken. But what if the magic of Monaco wore off for us? Would things be as intense?

When Alissa came to pick me up, she had a surprise for me with Lourdes Marie: a trio of red roses from Steve sent to me in care of her were strapped into the backseat of her car.

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed, getting into the car. 

“You’re glowing,” she said.

“I’m sunburned.”

“No, you’re not. You know what I mean, just your face when you saw the roses. Man, he’s making Joel look bad!”

I opened the card.

_ You are the entire world to me. I didn’t know I could love a woman like I love you…. Morning breath, too. _

I laughed.

“What does it say?”

“Okay, you can never tell him I showed you this,” I said, showing her the card.

“Oh, he’s a keeper,” she said, her eyes scanning the words, grinning.

“He bought me these while we were in Nice,” I said, indicating the sapphire earrings. “And the jeweler brought up engagement rings, his eyes lit up. I shut him down, though.”

“They’re beautiful! Are they real sapphires?”

“Yep,” I admitted.

“So you texted me that the two of you almost ran out and got married. What the hell!”

“We didn’t. We were just excited, but we realized there were a lot of things we hadn’t discussed. And also, a marriage outside the US doesn’t count unless you have a legally binding on in the states.

“Oh. That sucks. So he bought you earrings, why not a diamond ring?”

“You know how we discussed the stages of a relationship in Marital Life Cycle? We haven’t been through the stages properly, and there were a lot of things we haven’t gone through or discussed yet.”

“Like what?”

“Like meeting my family. And now that he’s got money in the bank, we need a prenup.”

“Oh, being practical?”   
“I guess. I’m no fun.”

The earrings sparkled in the sideview mirror, and I admired them. They brought out the green in my eyes and I grinned. That glow was not just love.

“I like him a lot for you. If you came back engaged, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

“I started feeling guilty that my family wouldn’t be there.”

“Hmm. I didn’t think of that. Yeah. When Joel met my family, I was afraid he wouldn’t want to marry me.”

“Oh please!” I cried. Joel was crazy about Liss.

“My stepfather and my mother acted like they were so normal and cool, but I swear to God, she lost her shit when he left their dog in the kitchen with the oven cracked and Scooter managed to eat the entire pumpkin pie. I was so embarrassed that Joel and I hid in the guest bedroom while he bitched him out.”

“That happened?”

“Yes. He didn’t break up with me after that trip, though, so… I guess it worked out.” She shrugged. “We still laugh about it today, especially when I yell at him.”

She pulled into the guest parking space and we got my suitcase out.

“Why didn’t you marry him there?” Alissa asked.

“I told you he won a million dollars playing Blackjack one night in Monte Carlo, right?” I asked. “It would be nice to be married to him, that money’s enticing. But if we’re talking about getting married, that means I’d be moving to New York, and I’d have to drop out of GWU and apply at other university to see if I could transfer. Steve and I haven’t really talked about that. Not at all. I didn’t work this hard just to become a housewife.”

Alissa nodded as we hiked up the stairs to my apartment. I unlocked the door and brought things inside. I let Lourdes Marie out of the carrier box once the door was shut.

“I used to think being a housewife was great, but as I grew up, I discovered it was a lot harder than it looked,” Alissa agreed. “And… if he lost his job for any reason… we’d be screwed. So, yeah. I get it. If Steve got hurt in combat…”

I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve got to think about that. That’s just  _ one _ thing we need to talk about. Above a million others. I didn’t want to discuss those things on vacation. So, we just walked up and down Nice and through the Old City, and talked about dreams, like moving to Nice one day,” I said, getting her souvenir out of my suitcase. “Here’s for you and Joel, a thank you for all the times you’ve cared for Lourdes Marie.”

“Oh, thank you!” she cried, opening it. I had gotten her some magnets for her refrigerator from Nice and Monaco. “Perfect for my collection! How did he manage a trip to  _ Monaco, _ though?”

“He pulled in some favors, mostly,” I said, flopping down on the bed. “And he wouldn’t let me pay for anything, either. But seriously, it was incredible to be in the Côte d’Azure. Oh, when he bought me these earrings, the jeweler brought up engagement rings, and his eyes lit up.”   
“Okay, I’m happy for you,” she began. “And I’m not trying to be a buzzkill, but don’t you think the two of you are in a honeymoon phase right now?”

“You’re right, of course,” I said. “I shut him down when the talk of engagement rings came up.”

“But you made him get the earrings, at least?”

I laughed and twirled around. “Yep!”

 

* * *

The next few weeks I was working like a dog to make up for the vacation and to stay on point at school. Steve came to stay when he wasn’t on call. We had a good time together in bed, but got a lot of things accomplished when it came to studies, too. We went out one night with Mia and her new boyfriend, and when I drank two vodka sodas, I got sick from it, and I caught a cold. My period was light that week, at least. It was probably from the Plan B pill, when I checked with the campus clinic. I read the website and literature, and that was correct, so I didn’t panic, I was within the symptom limits. It was enough flow to have to buy a box of tampons, though. I was coughing and sniffling for the better part of the week, and it was a challenge to keep my hands clean at work. Barry enjoyed it a little too much from behind the cook’s line.

“New something salty on your throat, Dani?” He asked and burst into devious giggles. 

My jaw dropped.

“Barry, I need to see you in the office,” Ron said sharply.

“Hey, I was just kidding!”

“Tell Dani that.”

“Dani, it was just a joke.”

“And?” Ron prompted.

“And…”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah, sorry Dani. I was just kidding.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and backed out the swinging doors into the dining room.

That evening, as I was counting down my tips, Ron sat down across from me. “Hey, you know how we’ve been short-staffed?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you’re in school and all, but how would you feel about taking over as shift manager once-in-a-while?”

I lit up inside. It was a steadier paycheck and a form of a promotion. If I did well enough, I could get  _ promoted,  _ a better, more steady paycheck. Possibly paid days off? “I’d love to!” I said.

“And listen, if the kitchen staff gets too rowdy and inappropriate, you have every right to say no-”

“I’ll do it. I can handle myself.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Dani. I’ll start training you tomorrow during the slow part of your shift. Just promise you’ll take a Tylenol cold or something before hand.”

After tipping out, I changed in the women’s room change into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt in the restroom when the door opened and Barry was pushing a mop and bucket in. “Whoa!” I cried. “Excuse me, changing clothes here!”

“Alright, sorry!” he cried. I expected him to giggle and tell me it was nothing he hadn’t seen before as I hopping into my leggings. Once dressed, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper to dab at my runny nose. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you,” Barry said as I exited the women’s restroom.

“There’s nobody in there,” I said. “It’s all yours.”

“No, I wanted to tell you something.”

I rolled my eyes and turned around to face him. He came on too strong on a regular basis with me. And a few other servers and hostesses. “Yes?”

“I think of you as a friend. And you know, I tease my friends the way I teased you tonight. I thought you’d find it funny.”

“Did Ron put you up to this?”

“No, I really do consider you a friend, Dani.”

“I have a boyfriend, you know,” I said, sniffling. “He’s very old-fashioned and wouldn’t be too happy to hear about the things to say to me.”

“I was only kidding. Guys talk like this when girls aren’t around.”

“Steve doesn’t.”

“Oh, you only  _ think  _ he doesn’t.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t.”

“Come on, it was a joke. You tell all your girlfriends about his cock and what a dumbass he can be, don’t you?” He winked at me and my skin crawled. 

“No, I don’t tell them those things because he’s not a dumbass. We’re a different couple.”

He laughed. “It’s cute that you think that. The truth bomb’s going to hit you like Hiroshima, girl.”

“If only you knew,” I said, wiping my snotty nose and walking out the door.

I had a hot whiskey toddy waiting for me with Lourdes Marie.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say thank you and to move things along, I'm releasing more than one chapter this week. Maybe more! Thank you for waiting for me and sticking with this fic!

Before I knew it, Easter weekend rolled around three weeks later. I checked my suitcase at the airport and met Steve at the domestic terminal for the flight to Nashville.

“Tony asked if you were interested in a trip to another one of his vacation homes,” Steve said. “In exchange for another batch of cookies.”

“You know I am,” I said, grinning. I was jittery. “I am so excited about you meeting my family.”

“I’m not excited, I’m nervous. I’ve never met a girlfriend’s family before.”

“They’re going to love you,” I said. “You have nothing to worry about.”

He took my hand and squeezed it. His felt almost clammy in mine. 

The flight was uneventful and relatively short. At BNA, the weather was sunny, but a little cool, perfect for Easter. We came down to the baggage claim, and Daddy and Harland were waiting.

“That’s them,” I whispered as we came down the escalator.

“Baby!” Daddy cried. “Come here, sweetheart, give your ol’ Daddy a hug!”

“Hi,” I said, and let go of Steve’s hand to hug my father. 

“Dani-girl, you look good,” Harland said, hugging me.

“So this is the elusive Steve Rogers,” Daddy said. “Man, we’ve been waiting since Thanksgiving to meet you, son.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Steve said, shaking Daddy’s hand. “It’s Colonel Conyers?”

“I’m retired now, just call me Curtis. And this is my husband and Dani’s step-father, Harland Bettencourt.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

So far, so good.

We claimed our luggage and Daddy drove us home to Brentwood. My allergies started acting up almost immediately, since the Bradford Pear trees were blooming and middle Tennessee was an allergy bowl, the pollen count high. I could see the yellow film on the cars. Daddy gave Steve an abbreviated tour of Brentwood, pointing out where I had gone to high school, where the Civil War battles had been, and how bad the traffic was getting. “You know I tried to get Dani to go to school here. Lipscomb has a great program for Licensed Practical Counselors.”

“She’s a smart one,” Harland agreed.

“She’s one of the smartest girls I’ve ever dated,” Steve agreed. “You did a good job making her.”

“Well, I’m not one to brag, but-”

“Y’all, can you stop?” I asked, blushing.

“You got taste, son,” Daddy joked.

“Sure do,” Steve agreed. He winked at me and I couldn’t help by chortle.

When we got Daddy and Harland’s house, I noticed that the old, rotten deck had been torn down and there was lumber piled up, some of it had been assembled in the backyard.

It was only two-thirty, so the kids were still at school and my siblings at work. Harland insisted on making something for us to eat the moment we arrived.

“I told you Steve can eat like a horse, right?” I asked. “Make an extra sandwich for him.”

“I remember those days when I could eat everything and not gain an ounce,” Harland said. “Just wait’ll you turn forty, it all breaks down then.”

Steve and I exchanged a knowing glance.

After eating the mid-afternoon snack, Steve insisted on getting my suitcase and his Army duffle upstairs. “Danielle, why don’t you and Steve get unpacked? I’ve got both of you in your room,” Daddy said, trailing behind us.

“Daddy, are you sure?” I asked.

“If your grandmother comes over and needs a nap, I want to make sure she’d got the guest bedroom,” Daddy said. “Steve, you’re okay with sharing a room with her?”

“If it’s alright with you,” Steve said awkwardly.

“I’ll let the two of you get unpacked,” Daddy said, leaving the room.

“That’s forward-thinking,” Steve muttered.

“I’m surprised he’s doing this,” I admitted. “No sex this weekend.”

“Dani, I wasn’t.. Uh…”

“I’m sorry. When we get back to New York,” I said.

I heard a familiar motor in the driveway: it had to be Lauren. “That’s Lauren! Come on!”

I took his hand and led him downstairs.

“Aunt Dani!” I heard Peyton and Matthew shout as the door to the garage opened.

“I’m here!” I called, and rounded the corner to the kitchen.

They both stopped and stared at the blond giant behind me whose hand I was holding. “Who dat?” Peyton asked.

“That’s Steve,” Matthew explained.

“Give me some hugs!” I commanded.

“That’s Aunt Dani’s boyfriend,” Lauren said, stepping into the house, still wearing her scrubs. “Hi Dani, you look gorgeous.”

“You do too,” I said, giving her a hug. 

“In my scrubs?” She snorted.

“This is Steve.”   
“It’s nice to meet you, Lauren,” Steve said, shaking her hand. “She’s told me a lot about the work you do.”

“Steve’s mom was a nurse,” I said.

“What branch of nursing was she in? Dani never told me,” Lauren said.

“She worked in hospice care,” I blurted out.

“That’s such a tough field to be,” Lauren said. “Almost has hard as neo-natal pediatrics. But hey, I brought a box of wine!”

“Yes, let’s tap it!” I cried.

We drank some wine in the kitchen and talked about school and the political drama in DC, while the kids played XBOX in the living room while Harland started on chicken and dumplings for me. “Where’s Russell?” I asked Lauren.

“I’m not his mother,” she grumbled. I pulled back, surprised.

“It sounds like you and Dani had a nice vacation in Monaco,” Daddy said loudly. “I saw the pictures. She blocked your face out, though.”

“Special ops rules about social media,” I said. 

“I can tell you all about it,” Steve offered as the door to the garage opened, and Shawn and Ruby burst through the laundry room to the kitchen. 

“Papa!” the shouted in unison and saw Steve sitting at the counter, eyes growing wide at the sight of him.

“Hi, we’re the Bettencourts,” Leighanne said, stepping into the kitchen, holding a six pack of cokes, and had a few bottles of wine under her arm. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. I’m Leighanne Bettencourt, you must be Dani’s boyfriend Steve.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Harland Jr’s coming in with the beer,” she said, putting the cokes away. “Don’t mind my kids, I’m trying to teach them manners, it’s not taking yet. My kids are Shawn and Ruby, sorry they didn’t say hello.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Steve said. “Dani tells me you’re a teacher?”

“I am,” Leighanne said. “I teach social studies in seventh grade.”

“Like history?”

“Yes, history. We focus on Tennessee History.”

“Dani!” Harland Jr shouted, coming into the kitchen with four six-packs of Black Abbey. “Welcome home!”

“Thanks,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You got Black Abbey?”

“Your favorite!”

After we got everyone situated for dinner and set the kids up at the breakfast nook, the adults settled down at the dining room table. We got to feed chicken and dumplings to Steve, who seemed to enjoy it and the discussion gravitated to him. I had told him it was okay to lie to my family, since his history was unbelievable as it was, but he insisted he wasn’t going to. “Leighanne, how was school today?”

“The kids were insane today,” Leighanne complained. “They’re all hyped up for the extra day off. I’m just happy for spring break!”

“Dani said you teach history, what’s really exciting about Tennessee history? Forgive me, I’m a Yankee, I wouldn’t know.”

“Okay, let me tell you all about prohibition in Tennessee and how there are still some counties that don’t allow liquor or wine,” Leighanne said. She and Junior started talking about how they were thinking about buying some farmland out out in Spring Hill where they were thinking about starting their own wine label, like Arrington Vineyards, if she could get out of teaching. That was a relief to me. “So what’s your favorite kind of wine, Steve?” Leighanne asked.

“I think my favorite would be… I don’t drink wine very often unless I’m with Dani, but I like a good red sherry. My favorite is cabernet. Of course, nothing beats the boxed wine Dani keeps in her fridge,” Steve joked.

“Hey, no judgment,” Junior said. “Boxed wine keeps the longest.”

“And I’m a poor grad school student,” I added in.

“Okay, so don’t us get wrong, we’re not complete alcoholics, although we want to start a winery and brought all the booze tonight,” Leighanne said. “But it’s not every night Dani brings home a serious boyfriend.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” Steve said. “I grew up downstairs from giant Italian family. Every Tuesday, their garbage can was filled up with wine bottles on the curb.”

“Isn’t that a stereotype?” I joked.

“They didn’t recycle?” Leighanne asked, horrified.

“Momma!” Ruby came running into the dining room. “I want some more milk!”

“Excuse me,” Leighanne said. 

“I think we should go out and enjoy ourselves,” Lauren said. “Everything’s going to be crowded tomorrow and Friday, and we’ve got church. We’ve got to show Steve a good time.”

“Speaking of which, what’s the schedule?” I asked.

“We’ve already missed the Maundy Thursday church services tonight. But the Good Friday pantomine is tomorrow night,” Daddy said, getting up, gathering a few empty bowls to take to the kitchen.

“We usually try to entertain the kids with dyeing Easter Eggs, but that doesn’t last for long,” Harland said.

“I’m ready for it,” Steve said.

“We’re going to have a bonfire Saturday night after church,” Leighanne said. “Are you Catholic, Steve?”

“Yeah, old school, pre-Vacatan II  _ Irish _ Catholic,” Steve said. 

“That’s perfect,” Harland Jr said. “I think we need to take him to lower Broadway.”

“No way!” I cried.

“Broadway?” Steve repeated.

“You like whiskey?” Junior teased.

“Sure,” Steve said.

“Good, I’m calling the Uber.” 

“No, we should start with Bushwackers!” Lauren cried gathering up the rest of our empty bowls.

“Hey, what are you kids doing?” Daddy asked, coming back into the room.

“We’re going to take Steve to Lower Broadway and get him some buy one get two pair free boots,” Lauren said, swilling down the last of her wine.

“You know I can’t let y’all go alone,” Daddy said.

“Daddy, no, I just want to take Steve to Pinewood Social and bowl a game, that’s it.”

“What’s on Lower Broadway?” Steve asked.

“Oh, Steven, we’re going to take you for some fun!” Leighanne said coming back into the dining room, her eyes lighting up. “I want a Bushwacker first!”

I groaned.

“What kind of boots are we talking about?” Steve whispered to me, confused. “I already  _ have _ boots.”

I groaned.

When the Uber arrived, I worried the interrogation would get worse once we took some shots. I wondered where the hell Russell was, and Harland offered to stay with the kids while we went to the party and tourist capital of Nashville. “You don’t have to tell them anything,” I said. “Get a few drinks in them, they’ll start asking questions nonstop.”

“I’m not afraid of answering them,” Steve said. “Besides, if they’re drunk, how much are they going to remember?”

I grimaced.

In the Uber XL, Daddy joined us immediately. “I hope you got a lot of food on your stomach, because the moment we get there, there’s going to be shots all around.”   
“Oh goody,” I muttered.

“No, we’re getting Bushwackers first,” Lauren said.

“Wait up!” Lauren shouted, flinging the van’s door open. She had changed into a pair of jeans and a black, one-shoulder top, and a pair of booties. Leighanne and Harland Jr were right behind her.

“We should have gotten Russell to watch the kids,” Lauren complained.

“Where is he?”   
“Work. I cannot believe they’re doing something so tacky as holding a late meeting during the end of Holy Week!” Lauren said, rolling her eyes.

“That’s life,” I said, shrugging.

At Lower Broadway, it was a little more packed than a usual Wednesday night, but nothing like a Saturday night. We stopped immediately at Broadway Brewhouse and Daddy ordered and insisted on paying for the first round of Bushwackers.

“What is this?” Steve asked as the bartender came by with them. “A milkshake?”

“A milkshake made out of alcohol, basically,” Junior said. “Take a sip, it’s delicious, it’s like a Wendy’s Frosty.”

I worried Steve would handle his alcohol a little too well as we started drinking. After two rounds of Bushwackers, I was feeling buzzed, but we got up and went down to Tootsie’s, where Lauren insisted on a round of shots.

Our family tradition was to shout “Volunteers!” for our home state when taking shots, and Steve looked confused.

“Is that a UT thing?” he asked me.

“No, we’re the volunteer state here in Tennessee,” I said, voice hoarse from the whiskey.

The band on stage started playing  _ Brown-Eyed Girl  _ by Van Morrison and Lauren insisted on dancing with me on the dance floor, Leighanne joined us. When I got back, Steve was trying to having a conversation with Daddy and Junior, and a fresh round of shots were lined up for us at the bar.

“Come on, let’s go!” Junior shouted. “Come on, Dani-girl!”

“I can’t believe we’re getting swacked on our first night here with your pops, of all people,” Steve said to me. My head spun and I gazed down at the shot in front of me. “What is this? Kentucky red-eye?”

“That swill?” Daddy roared. “Hell, no! My daughter’s boyfriend is not getting that battery acid! This here is Jack Daniels. Made in Lynchburg, just down the street!”

I had the feeling Daddy was already feeling the effects of our drinking, trying to keep up to impress Steve. My stomach lurched.

“Lynchburg’s a dry county. Still,” Leighanne told Steve.

“On three!” Daddy shouted. “One, two, three!”

“Volunteers!” My siblings shouted and threw back.

While everyone was throwing back, Steve took mine and then his at the same time, and nobody noticed.

“I heard they’re doing karaoke at Acme,” Lauren said, rubbing her sternum.

“We’ll sober up on the way down,” Leighanne guaranteed.

We started the strip towards Acme Feed and Seed, one of the more popular bars for locals, and it was a long walk. I lagged behind and Steve took my hand. “Do you feel okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” I admitted. “I don’t want to drink any more.”

“Okay, you don’t have to,” he said. “I’ll take your shots.”

When we arrived at Acme and got our IDs checked, we started up to the second level and got some drinks to take upstairs to the rooftop. Steve ordered a cranberry and vodka for me, and slipped the bartender a twenty dollar tip with a note to make it virgin, secret. Lauren, not playing around, ordered double shots of Jack Daniels, and Daddy had to match her, then challenged Steve. Steve took the challenge, and I bowed out. I watched at Lauren put both shots to her mouth at once and downed them.

“You’re not kidding, are you?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Double shots at once, can you do it, Stevie?” Lauren asked, a dangerous glint in her eye.

Steve mirrored her double shot-taking method.

“Damn, you really can hold your liquor, can’t you?” Lauren asked, her voice a little too loud.

“We’re going upstairs to hear the band,” Leighanne said, taking Harland Jr’s hand.

“We’re going to hang out here for a few minutes,” Steve said as Lauren got a Jack and Coke from the bartenders.

“I gotta pee,” Lauren announced. “Be right back.”

Daddy went upstairs, leaving Steve and me to look around the second floor.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked.

“I still need to sober up,” I admitted. 

“Your family can drink.”

“They’re just sizing you up,” I said.

“I can act a little drunk if you want,” he offered.

“No, please don’t,” I said.

“Are you okay?”   
“My stomach’s pretty gross right now. I’ll be right back.”

I went for the restroom, not sure if I was going to puke or not. I didn’t see Lauren, but I called her name. “Sorry hon, I don’t think there’s a Lauren in here,” a voice came from one of the stalls.

I gagged myself (which I knew I shouldn’t do) and threw up some of the shots, and I felt a little better. I washed my hands and went back out to find Steve and the rest of my family.

“Dani?”

My head whipped around to see the worst possible person that I certainly did not want to see at all: Chad Horvick. “Oh my God,” I whispered.

“Dani, is that you?” Chad asked, come over from where he and a few other people were standing by a pool table.

_ Shit, shit, shit, _ I thought. I hadn’t done a thing to freshen up my make-up and I was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt from GWU and booties. I hadn’t dressed up and my hair was a rat’s nest from the flight. I’m sure I had circles under my eyes by now, too.

When you see your ex, you want to look your best. And I certainly did not right now.

“Hi... Chad,” I muttered.

“I heard you left town. How you been?”

“Um… Good. Really good.” It would have been satisfying to rub in that I had a boyfriend here to who a million times better and was goddamn Captain America and had a bigger dick, but that was not classy at all. An unwelcome burp eased it’s way out my mouth, and I swallowed it, somehow, but it burned from the alcohol. “I’m living in DC now, I’m in school-”

“That’s great. I got a promotion, and that’s Lola over there, we just got engaged.”

I felt my stomach lurch again, and then nausea. I almost blacked out. A girl looked up, and she was gorgeous and wearing a cute little dress and had her hair perfectly styled and was  _ thinner _ than me and had bigger boobs. My eating disorder voice went crazy inside my head. She was like Barbie and I was a Raggedy Anne doll.

That asshole.

I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind. “Congratulations,” Steve said. “Hi, I’m Steve Rogers, I’m Dani’s boyfriend? Nice to meet you.”

He extended his hand to Chad. I felt a million times better that he had come to my rescue, ironically. 

“We came to Nashville for the weekend for Easter,” I said, finally finding my strength. Chad wasn’t going to grind me down.

Chad looked at Steve with his biceps that almost split his t-shirt sleeves and rippling pecs, and I saw his expression sour. 

“Nice to meet you,” Chad said, shaking his hand.

“Steve, this is my ex, Chad Horvick,” I said. 

“Good thing he’s your ex, I’d have never met you if it he wasn’t,” Steve remarked. “Dani’s a great girl, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she is,” Chad reluctantly agreed.

“You said you were engaged? I guess things have a way of working out for the best, don’t they?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, I guess so. She looks really good, though. Did you go back on the low-carb diet, Dani?”

That took some balls to ask me that. “No, we just do a lot of walking in DC. We went to Monaco too, I couldn’t get her to cliff-dive, though,” Steve said.

“Monaco, huh?”

“Yeah. It was fun. We went to Nice, too, had a great time. We got some great pictures, she looks good in all of ‘em. She insisted on bringing me home to meet her folks, though, we’re both so busy, it’s hard to find time.”

“So what do you do?”

“I work in Special Ops for the military,” he said. “Dani’s just amazing in grad school, she made it into the honor society and Tony Stark’s veteran health care group is trying to get her for an internship. She impressed him. She’s going to be an incredible counselor.”

I saw Chad’s eyes narrow slightly for a moment. “That’s good to hear. I’m… I’m happy for you, Dani.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling like I was walking a little taller.

“Well, we’ve got to go catch up with the others, it was nice to meet you, Chaz.”

“It’s  _ Chad _ ,” Chad snarled, eye narrowing.

“Of course, sorry about that.  _ Chad. Chad. _ We’ll see you around.” Steve took my hand and led my drunk ass up the stairs to the rooftop bar.

“I’m sorry about that,” I admitted. “But you were amazing.”

“I heard the way he was talking to you, bragging like that. What a knucklehead. And asking if you were on a diet right in front of me? What a complete jackass.”

“I had some unladylike thoughts, too,” I admitted.

“I don’t blame you. But you’re perfect and he’s an idiot. He was awful dumb to let you go.”

“Steven!” I said, ducking my head to avoid him seeing me blush.

“But how about how mad he got when I got his name wrong?” Steve grinned conspiratorially.

“You knew it was Chad, didn’t you?”

“Eh, he had it comin’. If he started anything, I’da knocked him out.”

We got to the rooftop bar and the DJ had some bro country song playing and somebody was singing off-key.

Leighanne rushed towards us. “I was waiting on you to come upstairs!” she cried, a drink in her hand. “Come on.”

“Whoa, what’s that?” Steve asked, seeing the Nissan Stadium lit up across the river. Acme had a beautiful, unincumbered view of it. The AT&T Building, what the locals called ‘the Batman Building’ was across the street, and it was gorgeous and lit up in the night. 

“That’s where the Titans play,” I said.

“You like football, Steve?” Leighanne asked. 

“I’m more of a baseball guy,” Steve said.

“Oh, too bad,” Leighanne said.

The song ended. “And up next, we’ve got Lauren, singing  _  Alone _ !” the DJ announced.

I screamed and clapped for her.

Lauren stepped up to the DJ stand with a drink in her hand and took the microphone. “Lauren’s got the best voice,” I told Steve.

Lauren’s clear belting mezzo soprano came out through the sound system and before she was halfway done through the song, she had the audience wrapped around her pinky finger. 

When she finished, Steve said, “She really does have a beautiful voice,” he tugged my hand along to go meet up with her. “Hey, Lauren, that was beautiful. Good job.”

“Thanks,” she said cooly, downing the rest of her drink. “You’re going to sing, right?”

“No, no!” Steve laughed. “I have no musical talent.”

“We’re pretty well matched,” I said.

“Get another drink on my tab, you two,” Daddy said, and turned back to Junior to continue the conversation they were having.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” Steve said, although we were probably going to go downstairs to that bar for refills.

“We ran into Chad downstairs,” I told Lauren.

“Oh, ouch,” she slurred. Her eyes weren’t focusing. “What happened?”

“He was a complete douchenozzle to me until Steve stepped up.”

“Aww, you got a boyfriend to stand up for you when you should be doing it yourself,” Lauren sneered.

“Excuse you,” Steve cut in, eyes narrowing at Lauren. 

“No, Dani’s got herself a big strong man because she can’t stand up for herself. Men can’t do it all for you, hon, you gotta learn to do for yourself!”

“It’s never easy to stand up to an ex,” I said. “You know that yourself.”

“Gotta learn to do it sometimes, babygirl,” Lauren said, a glint in her eye.

“You can stop being rude, now. Dani and I are a team-”

“Ugh, stop!” Lauren groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes. I saw her head wobble around like it was going to fall off her neck. “You know nothing about long-term relationships, Danielle!” she said, poking me in the center of my chest chest-- hard-- with her first finger.

“Lauren-” I started, grabbing her offending hand.

“Hey, break it up, you two!” the bouncer came barrelling through the crowd towards us.

Steve stepped in the way, taking an intimidating stance. “They’re sisters, just having an argument,” he said.

“No fighting in the bar,” the bouncer replied, although I saw him waivering a little bit in front of Steve.

“She’s just had a lot to drink,” Daddy said to me, apologizing for Lauren. 

“Oh, stop sticking up for her when she’s being an asshole, Daddy!” I cried. “She’s acting just like Momma!”

“ _ I’m _ the asshole? You can’t do  _ shit  _ for yourself, Dani-” Lauren started, but Junior slipped an arm around her shoulders and turned her away from me.

“Dani, Steve, come on, I’ll buy you another drink,” Daddy said.

“No thanks,” I muttered.

“I think we’re going to head home, it’s getting late and we’re pretty tired,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” I echoed. “Tell Lauren to have fun.” I grumbled.

“Heifer!” Lauren shouted over her shoulder, but Leighanne and Junior turned her around from us.

 

* * *

Steve and I took an Uber to Brentwood. Daddy texted me, asking me to come back with them, they were going to BB King’s, and Lauren had calmed down while we were waiting on the sidewalk. “I cannot believe how rude Lauren’s being,” I said. “I am so embarrassed.”

“She’s drunk. Drunk people say a lot of things they don’t mean.”

“People also get super-honest when they’re drunk,” I replied.

“She’ll probably apologize tomorrow.”

“She doesn’t apologize unless she’s forced to,” I said. “You don’t know my sister.”

“I don’t want to believe the worst in her.”

“She’s human,” I mumbled.

At the house, it was dark and quiet, I assumed Harland had gone to bed. The kids were in sleeping bags in the living room, Matthew was laying across the couch in a tangle of sheets and a blanket. His pillow had fallen to the floor. I picked it up and nestled it beside his head incase he wanted it and smoothed his sheets.

“I bet she’s just under a lot of stress,” Steve whispered. “Talk to her in the morning, I bet she’ll be a lot nicer and apologize.”

“She’s not your sister,” I said. “She can be really arrogant sometimes.”

“Dani?” I heard Harland coming down the stairs to the kitchen. “Hi, sweetheart. Are you the first two to come home?”

“We had a lot of fun, but we weren’t up for a late night,” Steve said.

“How was tonight with the kids?” I asked.

“We watched some Disney Channel, played some Slap Jack, had some ice cream. All good and fun.”

“Wait, where’s Russell?” I asked.

“He never showed,” Harland admitted, shrugging.

“Oh,” Steve and I said together. Lauren’s comments made sense.

“Lauren wasn’t that nice to us tonight,” I said. “How are she and Russell doing?”   
“Russell is….. I think they’re having problems, but won’t talk about it,” Harland said.

“She said something really rude to Steve and me tonight,” I said.

“She’s going through something she doesn’t want us knowing about about, honey,” he said. “Cut her some slack and give her a break.”

I groaned. “We’re going to bed.”

“Night, sweetheart,” Harland said, kissing my cheek.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, I was hungover as hell as I woke up. Steve’s side of the bed was cool, but the sheets rumpled. I groaned, and closed my eyes and rolled over, but I heard the door crack open. “Hey, I just made some coffee,” Steve said.

“Ugh…”

“I also got some of this in the bathroom,” he said, handing me two tiny white aspirin.

“Thank you,” I muttered, sitting up. I took a sip of the coffee- he had made it black, instead of how I usually liked it. If I had had creamer in it, I’d have barfed.

“The trick to a hangover is hydration and time,” Steve said.

“I wanna sleep a little longer.”

“I’ll let you rest,” he said.

The door to my room cracked open and Peyton stood there.

“Aunt Dani? Why is Steve in your wroom?” Peyton drawled.

“Hey, Pey-day,” I said as she stared at Steve. “I’m not feeling too good this morning.”

“I wanna play Barbies.”

“Okay, let me get dressed and I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“Okay.” She turned around and ran out of the room.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Steve said.

After a quick shower, I went downstairs to the living room to find the kids had woken up Daddy and Harland. Daddy was nursing a hangover, too.

“Good morning,” I muttered.

“Hey,” Daddy said. “Thanks for making the coffee, Steve-O.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Want some beer?” Harland asked. “Or maybe a sip of whiskey your coffee? The hair of the dog that bit ya?”

“Please. To the whiskey.”

“Steve?”

“Sure,” Steve said.

“You sure can hold your liquor,” Daddy remarked to Steve. 

“I’m military. I learned how to drink in basic,” Steve said.

“Are pancakes too much on everyone’s stomach?” Harland asked.

“Plain pancakes sound good,” I admitted. I needed something bland on my stomach.

“Where did you go to basic, son?” Daddy asked.

Every muscle in my body clenched and my stomach turned over. I felt myself heave.

Daddy’s head whipped around.

“Dani?” Steve cried, seeing me lurching up. I ran to the bathroom and started heaving up the black coffee I had had so far.

“I think you’re still a little drunk there, Dani-girl,” Daddy said as I mopped up the toilet seat with toilet paper.

“I think so,” I agreed.

 

* * *

The hangovers started wearing off as my siblings came over. To my surprise, Russell finally showed up. 

After a breakfast of plain pancakes, my stomach started settling. I felt like a human being by the time we had lunch. In the living room, I played Slap Jack with Peyton and Ruby.

“Hey, Matthew, you wanna play Slap Jack with us?” I asked.

“Nah, I wanna color,” Matthew replied.

“Coloring? I  _ love _ coloring,” Steve insisted. “I’ll color with you. Do you like drawing?”

“No,” Matthew said shyly. “I like coloring books.”

“We can do that.”

Matthew and Steve start coloring at the coffee table while I played a few more rounds of Slap Jack with the other kids. Matthew really started warming up to him, which warmed my heart.

We spent the afternoon dyeing easter eggs with the kids, and Steve got up to help Harland and Junior to work on the deck out back. It needed a lot of work, and the wheelchair ramp for Matthew was past due. He was growing so much, none of us could carry him out to the pool any more.

“Let me show you how to write a secret message on the egg that only shows up after you dye it,” I said to Peyton and Ruby, getting out the white crayon. “What do you want to write?”

“Boys are gross!" Ruby cried.

“Yeah!” Peyton cried and they burst into giggles.

“You won’t be saying that in a few years,” I warned. “Or maybe you will. How about we make eggs with everybody’s names on them?”

“I can write my own name!” Peyton cried.

After I helped them write their names on the eggs, we put them in the coffee cups with food coloring. I glanced out the window to see Steve pounding away at a post he was driving into the ground.

“Oh my God…” Leighanne’s voice muttered behind me.

“Are y’all looking at my boyfriend?” I teased, blushing just a little.

“He may be a Yankee, but my God, are his parents Zeus and Athena or something?” Lauren asked. “Because he looks like he was cut out of marble!”

My cheeks tingled: while Steve had his shirt on, it was just warm enough that he was sweating to the point his shirt was sticking to his muscles. With the traces of the tan he had gotten in Monaco, he looked incredible, wiping sweat off his brow and Lauren and Leighanne were salivating. “He works out,” I replied, going to the fridge to pour a fresh glass of iced tea.

“He must work out a _ lot _ ,” Lauren said, casting a knowing look at Leighanne. She had never apologized or even let on that anything had happened at Acme last night. “We understand why you were so cryptic at Christmas.”

“Why do we have to get on this subject?” I asked.

“Because… obviously,” Leighanne replied. She and Lauren laughed.

I felt light-headed suddenly and had to sit down. I fanned myself. I guess I wasn’t quite over this hangover.

“We have the same reaction,” Lauren teased.

There was a squeal from the living room and I heard the front door open. “Nanny!”

I jumped up to see my grandmother using her walker to walk in the door with her grandkids crowding her, Daddy behind her.

“Danielle!” She cried, lifting her head. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“Nanny!” I cried.

“Gimme a hug! Move over, kids! I haven’t seen my Dani-girl in four months!”

The sea of children parted and I got to hug Nanny.

“You’re looking kind of pale,” she said. “You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, not wanting to admit we had been out partying the night before.

“So where’s this boyfriend?” She asked me after we got her into the living room to Daddy’s recliner for her to put her feet up and had greeted the kids.

“Out back,” I said. “Let me go get him.”

Peyton and Ruby showed Nanny the Easter Egg they had dyed for her, and I took that as a moment to go get Harland, Junior, and Steve. 

“Hey, y’all, Nanny’s here,” I said, coming out to the back porch where they had managed to build about a third of the ramp. The deck was sturdier under my feet, too. “Steve, I want you to meet her.”

“Be right there,” he said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. I reached to his hand, and we followed Harland and Junior inside. 

After they had a chance to hug Nanny, Steve and I stood in the doorway. “Nanny, this is Steve Rogers,” I said. “Steve, this is my grandmother, Adelaide Conyers.”

“Ma’am, nice to meet you,” Steve said, kneeling down to shake her hand so she didn’t have to stand up. 

“Oh my, you are a handsome one,” Nanny remarked. 

Steve laughed nervously. 

“You look familiar, like I’ve seen you before,” she said. 

“I get that a lot,” Steve said bashfully.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve wanted to since Thanksgiving! Danielle tells me you’re in the military?”

“Yes, ma’am, Army. Special operations.”

“Curtis was Army, too. I tell ya, I almost lost my mind when he called me and told me he got himself a full scholarship to college, and then told me it was the GI Bill when he was eighteen.”

Nanny and Steve had a long conversation and got to know each other. During this time, the kids got rounded up to go home to change clothes for Good Friday services tonight at church. I took a few minutes to get some makeup on and to change into a dark church dress, while I heard Steve getting into the shower. In the kitchen, Daddy was mixing chili into the crockpot for dinner. Nanny was taking a nap in the recliner.

“I think Steve impressed your Nanny,” Daddy said.

“Did he impress you?” I asked.

“He’s got an artful way of dodging questions,” Daddy said sourly.

I crossed my arm over my chest defensively. 

“Hold your horses, I’m not saying I don’t like him!” Daddy cried. “I just want to make sure he’s good enough for my little girl.”

“He’s good enough,” I said.

“I think he’s hiding some stuff,” he muttered.

“Daddy-”

“Dani?” Steve called from upstairs. 

“We’ll continue this conversation later,” I said. I ran upstairs to find Steve in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair wet. “Hey, does your pops have a wet stone?”

“A what?”

“I need to sharpen my razor.”

“Here, use mine,” I said, getting my razor with a fresh blade out.

“I forgot mine somehow,” he muttered.

“Hey, are you getting along with Daddy and Harland?”

“Yeah, so far. Except for that whole incident last night. Lauren hasn’t apologized yet?”

“No. You know you can lie about things like when you were born, right?”

“Danielle, I’m not going to lie,” he said gently, combing his wet hair so it was styled. 

The steam in the bathroom was almost too much. “You father got out his gun collection and reminded me he holds a record at Fort Stewart for being able to shoot a moving target at three hundred yard.”

“Ugh,” I face-palmed. He used to get out his field gear and polish his guns when I had a date picking me up in high school. I should have known. I suddenly got dizzy. 

“Dani?” Steve asked, seeing me almost swoon in the foggy mirror. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I promised. 

“You just look a little pale.”

“This hangover’s killing me! I thought I was over it!”

“Go sit down, once I’m dressed, I’ll get a water for you. You’re probably dehydrated still.”

I went back to our room and sat down on the bed to rest. Daddy and Harland had probably let Steve sleep in my room to prove they were cool dads and could handle their baby girl having a serious boyfriend and having sex. I think it was a test to see if Steve would have sex with me in their house if given a carte blanche to sleep in the same bed as me.

Steve came into the room to get some clothes on, freshly shaved. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink the rest of the trip?” Steve asked. “Not like you did last night.”

“Probably not,” I agreed as he stepped into his dark trousers.

“At the bar, I’ll tip whomever I have to, promise.”

“Thanks,” I said, getting up to get my dark dress out.

Ten minutes later, I went downstairs to wake Nanny up, and she wanted to brush her teeth before we left. Harland has gone ahead to church to run the choir. Steve came downstairs and helped Nanny into the front seat of Daddy’s Avalon, and I daresay she enjoyed it.

“I’m glad Dani found herself a good Catholic boy,” Daddy joked as we drove out of the neighborhood. “I don’t know what I’d do if you dated another Presbyterian.”

“Daddy!” I groaned.

“Yep, I like my Catholic ‘Catholic’,” Steve announced.

“Good to hear,” Daddy said. “I like that.”

At church, we found Peyton and Matthew in the front row by the choir loft, where the “choir

Orphans” sat. Lauren looked perturbed in the soprano section.

Steve and I retrieved Peyton and Matthew, Matthew told us that his dad had been called back to work for another meeting.

We settled in for the Holy Friday service. The Youth Group did the pantomime of the last supper and Crucifixion, leaving us with a somber reflection of the Holy Mysteries.

Steve held my hand and squeezed it while we watched the priest and the acolytes depart. As we departed the church, I whispered, “What did you think?”

“It was an interesting method of showing the Last Supper and the Crucifixion, but I keep wondering where all the Latin went. And then, I remember: Vatican II.”

“We’re going to wait out at the car with the kids,” Daddy said in a low voice beside us. I wondered if he had heard Steve’s comment about the Latin, that was suspicious.

I got the feeling Matthew admired Steve, though: he loved talking to him, and Steve gave him all his attention when he did. Matthew told Steve all about his favorite Ninja Turtle while Steve helped Nanny back into Daddy’s car.

Lauren came out with Harland from the choir room.

“That was a beautiful service,” Steve told them. “The music was amazing.”

“Thanks,” Lauren muttered. “It would’ve been nicer if Russell had been where he  _ said _ he was gonna be.”

I wanted to hug her. I knew she was hurting. “He’ll come around,” I said. Her lips stayed in that hard line.

“I’m taking the kids home. I’ll call you in the morning,” she replied. “Thanks for watching them during mass.”

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Steve said, helping me into the car. 

At Nanny’s retirement village, Steve helped her up out of the car. My heart swelled to see him helping her, like she was his own grandmother.

“You know, I’m just faking, Steven,” Nanny said. “It’s nice to have a strong, handsome young fella’s arms around me for once.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Ms. Conyers,” Steve replied.

“If I were a few years younger, Dani would have to be on the lookout,” Nanny teased.

“Nanny, hands off my man,” I joked back as we walked to her condo unit. 

“I like you,” Nanny added to him.

“Good, I like you too.”

At Nanny’s unit, she invited us in. Nanny offered us a drink, and I declined. I didn’t want another hangover lasting the whole day added into my allergies. 

“Danielle, I wanted to give you something,” Nanny said, hobbling into the bedroom.

“What is it?” I asked, following her.

She sorted through her closet to the back of it. “Here. You always were the dancer in the family. And Steve said you taught him to dance, so I think you need to have this,” she said, hanging me a dress in dry-cleaning plastic.

“Oh, Nanny!” I cried, recognizing her red dancing dress from the 1950s. She had worn it to prom, when she had met Pop-pop. I had a picture of her in it. “It’s beautiful! Are you sure you want to give this to me?”

“Well, I can’t wear it any more,” she said. “It’s an Edith Head, too. And my dancing days are over, sweet pea. Besides, I bet Steve thinks you’d look good in red. Now see, I was about your size when I wore this, I think you’d be beautiful in it with that dark hair and pale skin.”

I lifted the plastic and got a good look at it. I could see the lining in the bodice that had yellowed a little with time and the tulle skirt. Nanny told me it had been a scandal when she went to prom in a red dress and everybody and Meridian talked about it. 

“It’s just taking up space in my closet,” Nanny added. “So’s my wedding dress, if Steve’s starts asking about your ring size.”

I gulped: it was almost as if she knew Steve and I had almost gotten married on a whim in Monaco. I hadn’t spoken a word of it to my family. “Now Nanny, don’t count your chickens before your eggs have hatched,” I said.

“He still chases you, even though you’re his. Chad never did that. And he’s an old soul, I can tell. The two of you, you  _ match _ .” She reached for my head, and stooped down, she kissed my forehead. “If your Daddy doesn’t give him his blessing, I will. Grandmothers outrank daddies, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, feeling tears fighting their way out of my eyes.

I helped Nanny back into the living room. “You two get home and get a good night’s rest,” Nanny instructed. “Tell your father I’ll call him when I’m ready to be picked up,” she said, letting go of my arm. “Steven, come here.”

“Yes, ma’am?” Steve asked, approaching her.

“Closer.”

He stepped over.

“Closer, son!”

He stooped down, and Nanny lifted her head and kissed him on the cheek. Steve burst out laughing. “Nanny!” I cried.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Nanny said, grinning. “Goodnight, you two kids get going.”

Steve and I went out to the parking lot. “Your grandmother is so cute,” he admitted. 

“She likes you. She said you’d like this dress on me,” I said, holding up the frock. 

“You’d look great in red,” he agreed, unlocking the Avalon with the remote. He opened the passenger door for me. Luckily, there was a little package of tissues in stashed in the glove box for my runny nose.

At home, we watched some TV together and Harland and Daddy got a few Army stories out of Steve. I told them about our day in Nice and we told them about the Casino in Monte Carlo. My runny nose sent me to bed, and Steve followed close behind.

The next morning, I had a snuffy nose and a cough. Steve magically didn’t have any of the symptoms, much to my aggravation. “Super Soldier Serum,” he shrugged. “I haven’t had a cold since 1943.”

“Ugh, Middle Tennessee allergies,” I grumbled, grabbing a handful of tissues in the bathroom and dabbed at my nose. “It’s the Bradford pear trees lining the medians in this neighborhood. I think Daddy has some Zyrtec.”

We had a lazy brunch and Steve asked about the Civil War history of this area, which Daddy was happy to talk about. Daddy probably talked uninterrupted for an hour while they hammered and drove stakes into the ground, and Steve took it all in.

“New York’s got a lot of history,” Daddy said when he finished talking about the battle of Franklin.

“I’m actually a World War II history buff,” Steve said.

“There’s nothing as exciting as the Storming of Normandy Beach,” Daddy said, knowingly. “Have you seen  _ Saving Private Ryan?” _

I tried to catch Steve’s eye. “No, I haven’t,” Steve said.

Daddy and Harland both groaned. “Great movie,” Daddy said. “Steven Spielberg really got it right.”

“That’s the same guy who did…  _ Raiders of the Lost Ark _ ?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Harland said.

Harland and Steve worked on the deck for a few more hours and finished it, save for the water seal.The Zyrtec worked, and I was feeling better so I could help more.

It was a beautiful afternoon to relax. Lauren came over with her kids, and Leighanne and Junior showed up with theirs and brought Nanny. “Why don’t we play some cornhole?” Harland suggested while Matthew and the kids tried out the new wheelchair ramp on the patio, and the other kids played on the bike with training wheels.

“Go, Wrooby go!” Peyton chanted in the background as Ruby came down the ramp on the bike.

We all tried not to laugh aloud at how cute that was.

We got out the cornhole set and taught Steve the basics.

“You know who’d win every time at this?” Steve asked. 

“Clint,” we agreed.

“Hey, What?” Lauren slurred.

“Inside joke. About a friend of mine,” Steve answered.

“How many beers have you had?” I asked.

Lauren roller her eyes. “I’m just starting my second.”

I felt Steve's hand on the small of my back. “That’s at least her third,” he whispered into my ear. “I know.”

We started playing cornhole, and I failed miserably. By the third try, Lauren doubled over laughing. “Quit now, you’re embarrassing yourself!” She blurred out between giggles.

“Stop being rude,” Steve snapped. The whole group went silent.

“I’m not being rude “ she replied, surprised. “I’m just teasing her.”

“Teasing is when both people laugh. Did you see the look on Dani’s face?”

Lauren scoffed. “She always makes that face when she’s embarrassed. She’s never learned how to take a joke. Besides, didn’t you say you don’t have siblings?”

“I don’t,” Steve admitted.

“Okay, so you don’t get how sibling dynamics work. This is what we do.”

Steve shrugged and we went back to cornhole.

“For once, I am so happy I’m an only child,” Steve muttered in my ear.

 

* * *

“Our kids aren’t going to act like that,” Steve said as I walked into the bedroom in my pajamas, flossing my teeth. I washed my hair after the bonfire, we all smelled like smoke.

“Like what?”

“Like the way Lauren treated you today,” he said form the bed, where he was sitting and reading. “And the rest of your family just let her.”

“Lauren caught a lot of crap from Mom,” I said. “Daddy’s not very good at standing up to Lauren, she’s a lot like our mother sometimes on a bad day. She seems to be going through a lot of them, though, lately.”

“That’s no excuse, though.”

“I know it’s not. We’re not perfect as a family. But, thank you for being there for me, though. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now let’s get to bed.”

Woke up from coughing around midnight, my voice like a foghorn, and Steve dutifully went downstairs to make a strong hot toddy for me. My throat calmed down from the whiskey (I think it was mostly whiskey, to be honest) and Steve held me until I finally fell asleep.

The next morning, I was groggy and hung over when Steve woke me up. “I know you’re not feeling too swell, but we’ve got to get to Easter Sunday Mass.”

“Can you get me a drink?” I croaked.

“Uh… another hot toddy?”

“No. I meant like hot tea or coffee. That was not a hot toddy last night, that was mostly tea-flavored whiskey,” I said.

“Yeah, it actually was,” he admitted, smirking.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said.

“I’ll be right up with something,” he said, kissing my temple.

I felt better after another hot shower that cleared my throat and sinuses. Steve left a hot coffee on the bathroom counter for me with a handful of throat lozenges and a package of Mucinex from Daddy instead of Zyrtec this time. He was thoughtful like that.

It was nice to get to spend Easter as a family with Nanny and to go with Steve. I realized that Steve was closer in age to my Nanny than to me as she sat beside him and she whispered to him while he was on the kneeler, praying. I wasn’t sure how we’d explain that if anybody found out. 

Russell actually showed up for East Sunday and brought Matthew and Peyton. “Dad, that’s Steve, Dani’s boyfriend!” Matthew whispered to Russell, glowing.

Steve tried to conceal a grin, having heard him.

I liked going to Mass with Steve along with my family. It felt natural. The idea of going to Mass with our children… the small fantasy grave me a rush. Steve would be an amazing father. He loved kids and my nieces and nephews all loved him. I imagined Steve and me as a married couple, a family, with our own kids. It felt real to me right now as Ruby climbed into Steve’s lap.

After communion, Daddy whispered to me that he wanted a family picture over by the Marian statue in the alley between the church and the rectory. “Steve’s good at photography, let him take it,” I whispered.

The exit hymn was announced, and the congregation started the bottleneck exit from the church.

“Danielle Conyers is that you?” Mrs. Yeats, an old southern biddy and gossip asked, elbowing her way over to me. She had been my Sunday School teacher in seventh grade. “Your hair’s gotten so long! You look real pretty. Who’d this? Who’d you bring home?”

“This is my boyfriend, Steve Rogers,” I said.

“Just a boyfriend? Did you do well in school this year?”

“I did,” I said. 

“How’d you do?”

“All A’s so far, only one B.”

“Well, that’s nice. Rogers, that’s an Irish name, isn’t it?”

“My parents were Irish, yes,” Steve said.

“This is my Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Yeats,” I said before Daddy interrupted me.

“Dani, it’s time to get that family picture,” Daddy said over the noise of the parishioners leaving the church.

“It was nice seeing you, Mrs. Yeats,” I said, grabbing Steve’s hand, leading him away.

“Are Southern women like that?” Steve asked. “Always that nosey?”

“They sure are,” I said. 

My family was gathering around the Marian statue garden. “Can you take a family picture for us?” I asked him, trying to mop away the beads of sweat on my temple. The church probably had the AC going at full blast with the Easter Sunday traffic, all those bodies generated heat, and I was surprised I didn’t have moon stains under my arms.

“Sure thing,” Steve said, getting his phone out.

After a little fussing and discussion, we managed to get in some semblance of order for the family picture. Luckily, the Marian garden was in the shade this time of the morning. I took my stance beside Harland, and tried to smile pretty for the picture when I felt a white-hot ping of dizziness travel up my spine and behind my eyes. My vision almosted whited out and I felt someone grab me from behind: it was Junior.

“You okay, Dani?” he asked.

“Too hot,” I admitted.

Steve had rushed up. “Dani?” he asked.

“Let’s get you home into some AC,” Harland said.

“I want to get the family picture, first,” I said. “Let’s do this quickly.”

“As you wish,” Steve said, kissing my forehead.

At home, after I had a glass of water and sat down with Nanny in front of the oscillating fan for a few minutes, I felt better. Lauren, Leighanne, Junior and I hid the dyed Easter Eggs all over the back yard, along with some plastic ones, and a Golden Egg, with a fifty dollar bill inside it. Steve declined to help with the hiding and hung out with Matthew. Steve and Matthew were coloring while Russell watched some golf and the other kids played with their easter basket gifts.

“Why didn’t you want hide easter eggs with us?” I asked Steve.

“Matthew and I are going to team up,” Steve said. “I’m going to help him hunt.”

“Are you buddies with him?” I teased.

“Yeah,” Steve said, bashfully as we watched Matthew’s tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, hard at work on his picture. He pushed his glasses up his nose before going back to his coloring. “I see a lot of myself in him.”

My heart warmed as Steve pulled Matthew onto his shoulders when we released the kids onto the Easter Egg hunt. I knew his team in the Avengers wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if they could see him and Matthew hunting Easter Eggs, but I almost cried it was so sweet. Steve never told him where he saw the eggs, he always let Matthew point. Matthew held his own in the hunt, although he didn’t find the Golden Egg, he managed to find the most eggs.

We had Easter Sunday dinner after the kids and Nanny got a good nap in. Leighanne had made an adorable cake that looked like a yellow egg surrounded by green coconut grass shreds. It was delicious, too.

Daddy and Harland very kindly did Steve and my laundry as we settled in for the evening to watch TV and have some coffee.

“So Steve, you think you and Dani will get to come back Memorial Day weekend when we open the pool or are you working?” Daddy asked.

“I think I’m scheduled to be on call that weekend,” Steve said. “But swimming is a favorite of mine.”

“You swam a lot as a kid?” Daddy asked. “In the city?”

“Uh, no, actually. I didn’t get to swim much in Brooklyn, I mostly picked it up in the Army.”

“I always wish I had had a chance to learn synchronized swimming,” I said, trying to change the subject. “But we didn’t have a synchronized swim team in high school.” 

“But you did swim team freshman and sophomore year,” Lauren said.

“I did,” I said, nodding. “I gave it up when I started working on my twirling scholarship. I mostly lagged behind and the coach screamed at me the whole time in the pool. In baton, I was a star because in high school, I was the only twirler.”

“Twirl the fire batons Aunt Dani!” Ruby cried.

“I don’t have them with me,” I said. “I’m sorry! They’re back in DC with the rest of my things. I’ll bring them back next time.”

“I’ve got a video of Aunt Dani with her fire batons,” Steve offered.

“I wanna see!” Matthew cried.

“Me too! Me too!” Peyton cried.

The kids gathered around him to watch the video of me twirling fire batons on New Year’s Eve in the courtyard of my apartment complex.

“What year did you finish basic, Steve?” Daddy asked.

“Ah, it would have been…”

“He was in the last basic platoon at Camp Lehigh,” I offered.

“Really, now?” Daddy asked.

“I’m older than I look,” Steve said. Well, it was true. More true than anybody else knew.

“I wanna watch it again, Steve,” Peyton pleaded.

“Alright, one more time.”

“How old are you, again?” Daddy asked, brow furrowing.

I felt every muscle in my body clench. “That’s impolite to ask,” I said, trying to make it sound like teasing.

“Only with women,” Daddy chided.

“She’s right,” Nanny muttered, sleepily. “Curtis, will you take me home? I am plum tuckered out.”

“Certainly, Mother, let me get your things.”   
“I think it would be a good idea for us all to get going. The kids have school tomorrow and Steve and Dani are flying home,” Lauren said.

“That sounds good to me,” Russell said.

“Danielle, did you try that dress on?” Nanny asked.

“A dress?” Lauren asked.

“Yeah… Nanny gave me one of her dancing dresses,” I said.

Lauren looked offended. “Oh, wow. You’re special.”

“Her tits actually fit into them,” Russell commented.

“Russell!” I cried.

“What the hell kind of thing is that to say?” Steve blurted out.

“That was a compliment!” he cried.

“Your compliment puts  _ my _ boobs down,” I replied.

“Oh fuck off, Russell,” Lauren snapped, “You just insulted me in front of my whole goddamn family, like you even have that right to at this point! Come on, kids, we’re going home. Russell, get your own ride.”

That was a chilly end of the night. The problems between Lauren and Russell had been blown wide open for the whole family to see.

Lauren and Russell went out to their minivan and started fighting. Peyton came back inside, crying, Steve, unable to take it, went out to the van and brought Matthew in, who had tears running down his face. 

“My wheelchair’s in the car,” Matthew said as Steve set him down on the couch. Peyton was curled up in Daddy’s lap, who was rocking her and telling her a story.

“It’s alright, here,” Steve said, getting his phone out. “Do you want to watch some more videos on my phone? We can download some games.”

“I like games,” Matthew said.

Leighanne and Junior took their kids out and left, finally. I texted her, and she said Russell and Lauren had ignored them as they ran past and packed Shawn and Ruby into their car. Shit was going down.

At one point, the arguing stopped, and I heard a cardoor slam. Before I could sneak a glance out the window to see what was going on, Lauren came in to get her kids.

“Alright kids, we’re going,” she said, stomping into the kitchen.

“Matthew,” Steve said. “I’ll get you out there. I had a lot of fun hanging out with you.”

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“Yeah, buddy, I’ve got work in New York.”

“Can you call out sick?” he asked as Steve carried him out to the van.

My heart ached. Lauren and Russell’s fighting was affecting their kids. I followed them out to the van. Steve was buckling Matthew into his carseat, Matthew was asking if he’d come back soon.

“Aunt Dani!” Peyton called. She ran up to me and threw her arms around my waist. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll call you tomorrow, we can FaceTime,” I promised, picking her up to kiss her. 

“Promise?”

“Promise. Everything’s going to he fine,” I said.

Steve helped with getting Peyton into her carseat after I passed her over to him. He was so good with the kids.

“Thanks,” Lauren mumbled, bringing her casserole dishes out to the back of the van.

“Lauren… if you and Russell are having problems,” I began carefully. “Don’t fight in front of the-”

“I don’t need your advice, Dani!” she snapped. “This is between me and Russell!”

“It’s between you and Russell and the kids,” I said. 

“Listen, Dani. You don’t know what it’s like to be married. It’s not easy. And Steve, you can drop that stupid, idiotic, chivalrous white knight act that we all know is bullshit!” Lauren shouted, angry tears rushing down her cheeks. “Men are trash.  _ All _ of you! He’s going to do the exact same thing to you that Russell does to me. Just wait, Dani! You’re better off alone.”

She pushed past me and got into the driver’s seat of the van, slamming the door. She wiped her eyes, and backed out of the driveway.

“Oh my God,” Steve muttered.

“Oh, Steve,” I mumbled.

“I will never do what Russell’s been doing,” he said, gathering me in his arms. “I promise.”

 

* * *

I folded some of my laundry in the laundry room, only to hear Daddy getting some heartburn medicine out of the cabinet. 

“I’m sorry about how the weekend ended,” he said gently. “I know you wanted us to impress Steve.”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Well… Lauren and Russell are having a rough time.”

“How bad is it?” I asked. “Nobody tells me anything.”

He shrugged. “She doesn’t talk to us about it, either. Well… boyfriends come and go, I guess. If Steve’s really worth it, it won’t bother him at all.”

“About that, Daddy. You don’t like Steve,” I said.

“Now Danielle, I didn’t say that,” Daddy said. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth.”

“I’m not,” I said. “But you said he was hiding something. He’s not.”

“I can’t worry about my little girl?”

“I’m not a little girl.”   
“You’ll always be  _ my _ little girl.”

I sighed. “He’s a good guy,” I argued. “And I’m a woman, now, not a little girl.”

“I’m not saying he’s not. But there’s no way he did basic at LeHigh.”

“What are you worried about?” I asked.

“That he’s out to get something.”

“Daddy,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I did _ not _ want to talk to him about my lack of virginity, that he was well aware of in the first place. Talk about embarrassment city. 

“I know it’s not  _ that _ , I wouldn’t’a put you and him in the same room this weekend if that were it, I wasn’t born yesterday,” Daddy griped.

“Well, what do you possibly think he’s after? After he took me to Monaco and brought me back in one piece? And completely in love with him?”

“Your good credit, I think. Don’t go cosigning on loans or anything.”

I groaned. “He has over a million dollars in the bank. He knows I’m a broke grad school student and that I don’t have anything, he never lets me pay and-”

“No moan’ and groanin’, huffin’ and puffin’,” he said, pouring a glass of water to take the omperozole. “I just don’t feel that he’s being a hundred percent honest with you and the rest of us. Now, you gotta get ready for your flight tomorrow. Oh and here’s a Mucinex. You kids get some rest, we’re shipping out at oh-six-hundred tomorrow for the airport to beat the traffic.”

In my room, Steve was reading on the bed.

“Thank you for bringing me along to meet your family.”

“Thank  _ you _ for putting up with my crazy family,” I said sliding under the covers beside him in the bed. “I love you.”

“I love you, Danielle. Goodnight.”

He kissed me gently.

  
  



	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you had a good week and Valentine's Day! I know my last few lemons suck, I'm going to work on those and rewrite them soon. I put some extra effort in on this one. I hope you enjoy!

After cashing my paycheck from the Starlight diner, I bought a train ticket to New York. Lourdes Marie was safe at Alissa and Joel’s, and I had carefully packed the dress Nanny gave me in a suitcase so I could wear it in New York when we went out to dinner with Nia. My reasoning behind going to New York was two-fold: I had EMDR level 1 training and I wanted to see Steve, even though it had hardly been four days since we had gotten back from Nashville for Easter. We had parted after arriving at Ronald Reagan in DC, and he took a flight to New York, and I left to go directly to class. I wished we had had some time alone, but him meeting my family was past due, even though it ended with Lauren screaming obscenities and telling Steve and me that he’d cheat on me and be an asshole in time. 

When I thought about it, maybe it was time I considered moving to New York to be close to him after graduation. I honestly considered that I would go back to Nashville and get my license in Tennessee when I was done with school but life was changing for me since the moment Steve had caught my clumsy ass in that gar bar. I had to break it to my family eventually, that I wouldn’t be returning to Tennessee. Life with Steve just seemed… inevitable. Granted, there were plenty of cheap flights from Nashville to New York, just as many as from DC to Nashville. They’d be sad, but eventually, things would be fine.

But I personally wished Lauren would just open up to me about what was happened with her and Russell. I had training in this. It was obvious to everyone that things were not good.

Steve was on-call this weekend, but the international things were pretty cooled off lately. He probably wasn’t going to be called out, he promised me. 

I grabbed my suitcase off the rack, and it almost took the wind out of me pulling it down, even though it only contained Nanny’s red dress. For some reason, my muscles weren’t nearly as strong as I was used to since the trip to Nashville. My allergies drove me insane lately. I hoped I’d get a reprieve from them in New York City. I was going to have to ask Daddy if I could go to an allergist in DC on his insurance… if I had time between work and school. I was getting all-over body aches, and what I thought was ‘Mittleschmirtz’, getting cramps between periods. I briefly wondered if I had gotten an ovarian cyst and if this was Lauren put up with all the time. Ibuprofen and Tylenol helped.

Steve was waiting for me when I got off the train.

“Hi, honey,” he said, scooping me up in his arms to hug me.

“It’s good to see you,” I wheezed.

“I wish I could say the same thing, but you have no idea how much the whole team has been busting my chops.”

“That has to do with me?” I asked, mock-offended.

“Okay, I’m kidding, I’m happy to see you. But somehow Tony and the guys found I’m in love with you. I will never hear the end of it,” he grumbled.

I burst out laughing, which only triggered a coughing fit. “What happened?”   
“They end every call with ‘ _ I love you, Cap _ !’ And every time I get a message from you, they cat-call me. I laughed along with them at first, but now they won’t quit.”

I laughed even harder imagining Tony Stark and Bruce Banner teasing him and coughed my head off. And even Clint Barton, the stony, brooding archer.

“You seem a little winded,” he noted.

“Yeah. Damn allergies. The decongestants aren’t doing enough,” I said, sniffling. “You don’t know how tickled I am that you’re catching crap from them over me.”

“Let me get your bags,” he said, taking them from me. “Come on.”

We took a cab to Brooklyn and my nose was so clogged when I got up to his apartment, he ran a hot bath for me and got me a few fingers of whiskey.

“Ma used to give me whiskey half-shots when my allergies got worse,” he said. “Go on, take that bath, it’ll help with your sinuses.”

I soaked in the bathtub with some epsom salts and pressed a hot soaked washcloth to my nose. I groaned in satisfaction as the stuffiness abated and I was able to breathe again. 

“Feeling better?” Steve asked, knocking on the bathroom door.

“Yes,” I admitted. “Come in. I don’t know why spring allergies have gotten me so badly this year. It’s like I suddenly got the worst allergies ever.”

“I know what that’s like,” he said, coming into the bathroom with a mug of tea for me. “I remember cringeing at the blooms on the trees.”

I took a sip of the tea: he had made a hot toddy for me. “It’s like Mother Nature has it in for me.”

He kissed my temple. “Maybe it’ll get better while you’re here in New York.”

“I hope so,” I muttered. “I better be feeling better by tomorrow morning. Oh, do you have any Tylenol?”

“Uh, no, but I can go get some. The whiskey oughta do the trick for your throat.”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it?”

I didn’t want to bring up my period and cycle and explaining Mittleschmirtz. “Never mind.”

“Do you want me to wash your hair?”

“Would you, please?” 

After he washed my hair for me, Steve had a mountain of pillows waiting for me on the bed. I slept partially sitting up. In the middle of the night, I woke up with my throat burning from the nasal drip and having to mouth-breathe. My sinuses had closed up again and my nose was running all kinds of snot like a faucet and the Mittleschmirtz or the cyst were bothering the hell out of me.  I limped into the bathroom wet down a washcloth with hot water to press to my sinuses in hope of some relief, but the steam made me woozy. My body wavered to the side, and I found the tiled floor coming up to meet my face, and I braced myself just in time.

“Dani?” Steve cried.

I groaned. “Ugh! Steve? I’m in the bathroom, ‘m okay.”

“Can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Did you pass out?” he asked, picking me up off the floor. “I’m getting that medicine for you- there’s a twenty-four hour pharmacy a few blocks away-”

“Baby, no,” I groaned as he carried me back to bed. “It’s just a really bad cold.”

“Not the flu?”

“No, I had my flu shot this year. But can you get some ibuprofen?”

“You’re still in pain?”

“It’s… okay, it’s lady problems.”

“Oh.” Steve tucked me back into the bed. “Stay here, what is it I needed to get from your things?”

“I have some Zyrtec,” I said. I had found a cheap, generic Zyrtec on Amazon, and that was about all I could afford with all the time I had taken off lately.

“Mucinex did the best, I’m calling the pharmacy,” he said, coming back into the room with more whiskey. “This’ll have to do for now.”

“Thank you. I love you.” I tossed back the whiskey and closed my eyes. I dozed off, but right as I was settling into sleep, the door buzzed, and I sat up. Steve answered it and came back with a glass of water and a Mucinex blister package, getting a tablet out for me and a few ibuprofen tablets.

“You’re good to me,” I admitted, downing the expensive medication. He wet down the washcloth in the bathroom again for me.

“I hope you feel better soon. Now get some sleep,” he pressed the cold, wet washcloth to my forehead, and I sighed in relief.

In the morning, the alarm rang too soon.

“Come on, you’ve got training,” Steve said, getting up. “I’ll make breakfast for you?”

“Okay,” I muttered. I felt a little light-headed, but I could breathe through my sinuses again, but the cramps were returning. “The Mucinex worked.”

“Good,” he said. “How’s the other stuff? Is it feeling better?”

“The period stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s still bugging me.”

“How does a boiled egg, some canned fruit, and coffee sound with some ibuprofen?”

“Great.”

I dressed for the EMDR conference and put on my makeup while Steve made breakfast. I was feeling better. A lot better. Maybe I needed to invest in Mucinex, even though it was expensive. Maybe this was a springtime cold, not allergies, and I just wasn’t treating it properly. There was a chance I had a sinus infection, the area around my eyes and the bridge of my nose was swollen, my nose bright red.

I checked my phone, and I had a text from Pepper.

_ Hey, I heard you’re in town, wanna grab some lunch? _

I grinned to myself.  _ I’d love to, if you don’t mind somebody sick.  _ I texted back.

_ I don’t mind at all. I’ll bring the hand sanitizer. _

“Breakfast is ready,” Steve called.

“Be right there,” I replied.

* * *

The EMDR conference was interesting, and I loved it, having done it in the past myself. Pepper was kind enough to meet me for lunch in the hotel lobby. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to get what you have,” she said. “You look like you’ve got a sinus infection.”

“I’m wondering if that what this is,” I said.

“You need to see a doctor. But lunch, first. I know a great little bistro around the corner with an amazing avocado citrus cobb salad, perfect for a dose of vitamin C.”

“That sounds great,” I admitted, grabbing a few tissues from the box on the concierge desk in the lobby. “Okay, so Tony and the team are teasing Steve non-stop about being in love with me. Did you tell him anything?”

Pepper smirked. “I might have let it slip,” she said. “So tell me about EMDR.”

I found myself dominating the conversation at lunch about how much I had learned about EMDR.

“I’m sorry, I’m doing all the talking,” I apologized.

“No, you’re just passionate about it all. I think the military needs more people like you who care and want to help them with things like PTSD. Tony made weapons of war for a long time, but now, we have to worry about the effects of war because the VA never kept up with the demands after the gulf war and Iraqi freedom. It’s going to be up to the private sector to make up for it, and I want to make sure there are good psychologists like you who actually  _ care  _ about what you’re doing.”

“I’ve got a ways to go,” I chortled, taking a gulp of my ice water to cool my throat.

“I spoke to the General Holmwood, he’s putting in a good word for you at the mental health division of the VA for when you graduate if you don’t end up with Stark Enterprises.”

“Oh, that is such a great help, Pepper, thank you,” I gushed. 

“I get it. I’m just glad you care so much. You know, my father struggled with mental health after he served in Vietnam, but he was too proud to go to a good therapist. I really have high hopes for you.” 

“It means a lot to me to have job options right out of school,” I said. “You’re really amazing.”

“No, I think you are,” she said. “I think good things are going to happen for you.”

“I hope so,” I said. “I think my family’s weird about me and Steve. Steve, for the most part, made a good impression, but we can’t answer stuff like when he went to basic and how old he is. That just puts my father on edge.”

“He sounds like a dad who loves you a lot,” she said, looking wistful. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Steve and I wanted to go to dinner together and just have some alone time. Tomorrow night, we agreed to go out with with Nia and her boyfriend. She’s dating one of the partner’s sons, who’s in Columbia Law School, can you believe that?” 

“Well, you said she was really something as a paralegal,” Pepper said. “And who’d pass up a Rockette?”   
“Right?” I looked down at my salad and I hadn’t even made a dent in in it. “I’m gonna eat this, I promise.”

“No worries. Eat what you can, I can send a friend of mine over, he’s an NP and assists Tony’s doctor, when he’s not too full of himself to go.”   
“I’m fine,” I said. “There’s a medical office at GWU I can go to for free.”

“No, this is bad, you need some medical intervention.”

“Thanks,” I admitted.

As Pepper insisted on getting the bill (I could hardly argue since the salad was twenty-five dollars), I got those weird, creepy full-body gassy cramps again, and one shot up my back and up to my neck. I excused myself to the bathroom.

Pepper and I said good-bye a little while later and I went back to my conference, feeling a little better.

* * *

“Hi, sweetheart,” Steve said as I opened the door. A man was sitting on the couch beside him. “We’ve got a guest, who was asking for you?”

“Hi,” I said. “Hi, I’m Danielle Conyers.”

“Robert Haus, RN, BSN, FNP?” the man said, standing up.

“Hi,” I said, shaking his hand. “Pepper sent you?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he said, handing me a business card. “She says you’ve got allergies or a nasty cold?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I can go down the street if you need a few minutes alone for an exam?” Steve asked.

“You can stay,” I said.

Rob Haus asked a few questions about how my health and my symptoms and my health history, and used this stethoscope to listen to my lungs and heartbeat. “This sounds like a really nice cold, coupled with allergies and some stress-related heartburn. Mucinex was a good choice. Keep that up, use some Flo-nase, Zyrtec, and keep the fluids coming and Prilosec daily until the semester’s over. No more hot toddies, though. If symptoms persist for another week, it’s probably morphed into a sinus infection and you need to go back to a doctor to be seen for it. And the heartburn might be GERD if the Prilosec doesn’t make a difference.”

“So much medication,” I groaned.

“Stress does that to a person,” he agreed. “It’s time to get going, though.”

“You can’t stay for a drink?” Steve asked.

“No, I’ve got an appointment,” Robert said. “It was nice meeting you both.”

After he left, Steve ordered the over the counter medications from the pharmacy.

“How was was the seminar?” Steve asked, bringing over a glass of water an another dose of Mucinex.

“It was fun to learn. But it was mentally taxing,” I admitted.

“Are you feeling better?”

“The Mucinex is making a difference, but my God, I think I ate something weird,” I admitted. He had gone out to the fire escape for a few minutes while I talked about the symptoms. “How much do you want to hear?”

“Like…”

“Like bathroom stuff.”

“Oh, no thanks.”

“I’m going to take a shower before dinner,” I said. I went to the bathroom and tried to fart out all this excess gas that was cramping my system while he went to get my prescriptions. I found myself spotting, which I thought was weird, since my period was due in a few days, and it didn’t usually start this way. Plan B usually had the side effect of messing up your period start dates for a few months, but this explained all the gas and cramping as PMS symptoms. I took an extra dose of ibuprofen and came out of the bathroom wearing the polyester silk robe I kept at his place over my bra, panties, and Spanx. 

He was dressed in a button-up shirt and jacket and his cologne smelled incredible. I almost melted at the scent. “Guess what I got?” Steve asked, holding up a paper sack for me.

He had a starting dose of all the medications and a glass of water. “I love you!” I cried.

I found I had my appetite back, but I was getting sleepy, probably from all the effort of coughing and mouth breathing from the swelling in my sinuses. We had a Portuguese food, which was delicious, but I didn’t drink any wine. After dinner, Steve brought me home. 

“You’re sure you didn’t have anything to drink?”

“I didn’t, I swear,” I laughed, lagging behind as he tugged me along by hand. “I didn’t want the alcohol mixing with the Mucinex.”

“You know I had plans for you, right?”   
“No,” I laughed. “Oh Steve,” I sighed. “I wish last weekend had gone better in Nashville.”

“It did go well,” he said. “I had a great time meeting your family. I like Nashville, it’s a fun city.”   
“You only scratched the surface,” I said and he slipped his arms around me and hugged me hard enough to lift my feet up off the ground. I slipped arm around his neck to hold onto him and he climbed the steps up to his apartment before setting me down to scan his tenant badge to get the door to open. We started up the stairs, but I got winded. 

“I gotcha.” Steve picked me up, bridal style, and carried me up the steps. 

“A girl could get used to this,” I remarked. 

“I’ll do this for you forever,” he promised. He set me down on the doormat so he could unlock the door. He kissed my shoulder and the door swung open. I went to step inside, and Steve’s arms slipped around my middle. “You looked so beautiful tonight. This dress was meant for you.” I closed my eyes and enjoyed his lips against my skin. “Everybody was watching you the moment you walked in.”

He scooped me up into his arms so quickly, I hardly had time to adjust. I was carried into the apartment like a bride and he took me into the bedroom. 

“Steve,” I sighed.

“Let me undress you,” he said softly.

I felt my whole body go stiff. “Oh no,” I said. 

“What is it?” he asked, his hand tapping along my side to the zipper under my arm.

“Steve, let me just- I need a moment,” I said, thinking of the ugly Spanx I had on under the dress. This dress couldn’t be worn without them, the waist was so narrow. He yanked the zipper down.

“Come on, I’ve seen you- what the hell is this?” he asked his fingertips grazing the Spanx material.

I blushed and started laughing. “I’m wearing Spanx.”

“What is that?” he asked. 

“It’s like… a girdle. You don’t wear a dress like this without something to pull your waist in.”

“I… you women are a mystery,” he laughed. “Come on, let’s get you out of these, they can’t be comfortable.”

“They’re not,” I agreed.

He helped me out of the dress and we peeled off the body contouring undergarment, and I sighed in relief as he got them off of me. “I’m letting it all hang out,” I sighed, relieved, sitting down on the bed, unhooking the straps on my shoes. He took off his belt and unbuttoned his shirt to lay down beside me on the bed. I turned on the lamp and laid down beside in nothing but my underwear.

“I like you this way,” Steve said. “No illusions. Just you.”

“Spanx are an illusion?” I asked.

“Yeah. You’re beautiful right now.”

“I thought you said I was beautiful at dinner.”

“You are. But this is different,” he ran the back of his fingers along my collarbone. “You’re beautiful in a way I don’t want anybody else seeing right now.” His fingers ran up to my cheek, and I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch. “Are you feeling better?”

“A lot better,” I agreed, opening my eyes. “But I started.”

He nodded, understanding. “Okay. If you don’t want to…”

“There are still things we can do.” 

He cupped my cheek, and we kissed passionately, I could feel the swelling in his pants against my leg. I cracked my eyes open to see that his eyes were shut, he was enjoying this. I slipping my hand down those six pack abs to cup him. His blue eyes flew open and he grunted into the kiss. I pulled away. “I’ll take care of it,” I whispered, planting soft kisses along his chin, along his jaw. I rubbed gently on his cock through his pants, his head leaned out, mouth open, trying to breathe.

“Oh, God… oh, Dani.”

“I got it, baby,” I muttered into his ear, unbuttoning the top button of his pants. His warm hands greedily squeezed my butt cheeks, pushing my underwear down, and his fingers got dangerously close to my back entrance. “Mmm,” I whispered. I wriggled my butt into his grip, as much as butt stuff had a stigma for straight girls, the idea of him taking me from the back aroused me, but we hadn’t talked about it yet. I reached down, unzipping his dark trousers, and I saw his shorts straining. I slipped my fingers under the waistband and pulled them down, his erect cock popping out with a groan. I had seen it before, but everytime, it was so beautiful it took my breath away. His eyes were glassy, stuck on the ceiling. At this point, my hand slid down it out of habit. I saw his muscles clench. We were familiar lovers, now, we knew each other’s ticks. I kissed down his chest, stopping occasionally to lick certain lines and planes that appeared from his muscles under his taut skin. I had discovered a while back that he was one of his most sensitive spots. I ran my free hand along his floating rib to see if I could get a reaction between kisses. It made him shiver. I had quick fantasies of period sex, but he had his hang ups about it.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

I pumped with my opposite hands around his cock and licked a stripe up the underside. He made noises of ecstasy. I was ready for it. I took the head in past my lips. I licked around in a circle, teasing the tiny hole with my tongue tasting the precum, then pushed my head down to take the rest of the length into my mouth to the back of my throat. I felt him hit the back of my mouth, humming so he could feel it, I got a response from him. I held him down until I started gagging. He chanted my name slowly until I got him to climax, keeping the head of his cock in my mouth as he spurted the bitter, salty, hot liquid, his cries mingling in my ears.

We sat there, completely still, him catching his breath, he reached over to the bedside table to get a tissue for me. He stroked my hair, looking down at me, lovingly, as I did the gross task of spitting out his wad and wiping my tongue off.

“I’m being so attractive,” I admitted, pretty much licking the tissue.

“What?”

“The post-blow-job act of cleaning up,” I admitted, folding up the tissue. “Ugh.” I kissed his happy trail and pushed up with my free arm to get up off the bed to throw away the tissue in the bathroom.

“You’re cute to me,” he said. I heard the bed creaking and saw him sitting up to take off the rest of his clothes. “Want to take a shower together?”

“Sure.”

* * *

After our shower (even though we didn’t have sex, we had a conversation about the rest of my semester with school, we got ready for bed. When Steve had brushed his teeth and left me in the bathroom, I checked my tampon. It was clear white. It turned out my period had faked me out.

I didn’t sleep well, despite the Mucinex and ibuprofen I took to help with the Mittleschmirtz. I kept on fearing I had started my period again. Steve would be traumatized if he woke up in a CSI crime scene with me in the morning, I didn’t want to put him through that.

My last day of EMDR training went well, except I got lightheaded on the walk from the subway. Luckily, they had fresh coffee waiting. The ibuprofen wasn’t that effective, I had to take it repeatedly.

Steve and I met Nia and Creighton at a farm-to-table restaurant in Brooklyn. I wore the same dress again, and I felt beautiful. Steve loved it on me. She was glowing, and completely in crazy about Creighton, the part- Jewish son of her boss. He was crazy about her, and looked at her like the greatest thing that ever happened to him. Creighton was so smart, and I loved talking to him. 

“You know what I want to do now,” Nia said, as Creighton and Steve argued about who was going to get the check. 

“Oh girl,” I muttered.

“I know you’ve been sick, but please?” she pleaded.

I grinned to myself. “Oh, twist my arm,” I replied.

Nia squealed and clapped. “I know just the place!”

Creighton hailed a cab after dinner. “So where are you taking us?” Steve asked.

“We’re going to the Junk Yard,” Nia said.

“The Junk Yard?” I repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“Sounds like a monster truck rally,” Steve said.

“It’s not, I swear,” Nia said.

“It’s fun. I get hit on occasionally, but I don’t mind the free drinks,” Creighton said.

The bar had a line outside of it, but Nia was able to walk us up to the bouncer. “Hey, Nia, good to see you! Creighton, man, what’s up?”

“These are my friends, Steve and Dani,” Nia said. “We came here to dance.”

“Come on in,” he said, unhooking the chain for us.

Inside the bar, my dizziness felt like a drug, the bass line of the EDM thumping. “Can you get me a cranberry and soda?” I asked Steve.

“I’ll be at the bar,” he said.

“You’ll be dancing, right?” Nia asked as we went down the stairs.

In the basement, the club was rocking.

Nia and I went to the dance floor, and Creighton followed, proving he was a great dancer as we got out.

It felt like old times, but then I got those weird cramps again.

“You okay?” Nia mouthed over the music, grabbing my arm. 

“Bathroom,” I shouted over the music.

In the unisex bathroom, I peed, and discovered my period had started again, a lot harder this time. Damn it, I didn’t even have a tampon and there was no tampon machine in the unisex bathroom.

I went back out onto the dance floor and tapped Nia to see if she had a tampon or something in her purse. “I got you, fam,” she said, digging around in her clutch, and slipping one to me.

I had not anticipated getting my period. One more trip to the pharmacy tonight. I knew I’d be wracked with cramps in a short time, too. I tracked it back to when I took the Plan B pill in Monaco: it ws really screwing with my cycle. I knew I had had a good time with Nia, but the night was going to be cut short.

At the bar, I looked for Steve, and I didn’t see him. I went to Nia to let her know I was ducking out, since I had just started and to give her a hug goodbye. She pouted a little. “It was good to see you,” she said, and hugged me.

“You too,” I admitted.

I went back to the bar to see if anybody had seen Steve. “Oh, I saw him,” the bartender said. “He went out the back entrance to the alley. Somebody needed help with a tire change.”   
Of course. I smiled to myself.

“See the exit sign? It’s a staircase to the back alley, there’s parking lot there.”

“Thanks,” I said, and cross the dance floor again.

Up the stairwell (it smelled like pee, I didn’t touch anything), I found the door to the parking lot. There was a chain link fence, I had to round it. I saw Steve’s blond head and broad shoulders, and someone was talking to him. It was a pay-to-park parking lot, and of course, Steve was being the Boy Scout, helping someone in need-

I saw Steve’s conversation partner lean over and kiss him.

This was a guy.

Kissing him.

I stood there, stunned and frozen for a moment.

Steve pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back, gently. But he was _ kissing _ him back.

“Hey, look, I’m not…” I heard him say softly. He didn’t try to punch him out or even yell at him. He was being sweet. Letting this guy down easy.

“I thought you helped with the tire because you were interested in going home with me” the guy admitted to Steve. “Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed-“

“No, it’s not… I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Steve said. My nausea spiked in my stomach, and I almost heaved up dinner right there. 

“Oh my God, you were giving off all the signals.”

“Well,” Steve chortled nervously. “Don’t be embarrassed, I’m not going to say anything.”

“Steve?” I asked. He whirled around, surprised. I stood there, stunned, shocked, so many disgusting feelings roiling my stomach.

“Dani?” he asked, looking like deer in the headlights.

“Oh,” the little skinny guy said. “Well, this is awkward.”

“Dani, I was just trying to help him out,” Steve said, I could see his cheeks flushing.

“This… something isn’t adding up,” I said. “Oh my God…” I felt dizzy. “I’m gonna puke.”

I took a few steps back towards the club before I felt the heaves happening. I braced myself against a car and the contents of my stomach came up on the gravel.

“Dani?” I felt Steve’s hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, feeling tears finally pricking my eyes. I swatted his hand away. 

“I didn’t-”

“You kissed somebody else!” I shouted.

“I didn’t!” he cried, horrified. “I didn’t kiss him! He assumed- I didn’t-”

“You kissed him back!” I cried.

“That’s- it’s not- it was a mistake, it’s not what you think!” he pleaded.

Of course.

Too much was connecting in my mind.

He was into art. And porn grossed him out. I met him in a goddamned  _ gay bar _ . He knew what drag queens were, despite being from the 1940s when the gay community was hidden and underground. He knew where all the gar bars had been in the 40s. No wonder he always wore tight t-shirts. And always dressed so cleanly and preppy. And so smart and well-read. He didn’t want people thinking of me fucking him and doing dirty things… but was it really he didn’t imagine himself with a woman? He was beautiful, sculpted, the perfect body, he had been in a rush to marry me in Monaco as if he had something to prove...

“You’re gay.”

The words were so soft they didn’t even echo in the alley as they came out of my mouth.

“I’m not a gay!” Steve cried, horrified. “Dani, why would you even think that, I wasn’t- I didn’t  _ do _ anything, this is all just a giant misunderstanding!”

“You kissed him back,” I said, the tears leaking out of my eyes.

He spoke about his friend Bucky from the forties eloquently, emotionally… had he been lovers with Bucky? Oh my God… He had said he had never been with a  _ woman _ before me. Did that mean… did that mean he had had been with men? Had he been trying to prove heteronormal after being in cryo so he could escape the gay stigma from the 40s and that’s why he pursued me? “That was an accident!” he cried.

“I don’t… Have you been lying to me?” I asked, my first sob coming out of my mouth. I wasn’t sure what hurt worse: that he lied or that he was gay.

“No, I’ve never lied to you, Danielle!”

Nia swore he was gay when she first met him in person. My whole body heaved, and I wasn’t sure if it was vomit or sobbing. I had come up with the story that he had another lover in the city before I found out he was Captain America. What if I had been right? What if there was a man… multiple men? That he made love with… or  _ fucked _ … when I wasn’t in town. He never  _ fucked _ me. We always made love and it was never hard or frantic to placate needs. He was always telling me how to speak, he didn’t want me cursing or taking my bikini top off at the beaches in Monaco. He was shaping me all this time. Was I beard? So he could pretend to be straight in public? “I’d ask you tell me the truth,” I gasped between sobs. “But I don’t know if I’d believe a word that came out of your mouth now.”

“Honey-”

“Leave me alone,” I said, and turned to go back into the bar to get out to the front entrance. Steve chased after me, and grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me around. “Danielle, listen to me. You are the only woman-  _ person _ I’ve ever loved. Look me in the eye.”

I could hardly lift my eyes, it hurt so bad.

“Steve-”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, but it feels like… I feel like you never have.”

“That’s not true!”

“I don’t know that it is! Tell me the truth, Steve! You kissed him back! You were disgusted and you didn’t get defensive! Why?”

He was silent for a long time, and looked away from me. “I don’t know.”

“Steve, let me go,” I pleaded.

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been hinting at Steve's sexuality this whole time. I'll explain why I did this later at the end. I am done with this, will update soon.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it to me to mess up posting my own story! I lost a big chunk of dialogue between Dani and Steve that was so important to the story! Now repaired. Enjoy! Thanks to Friendly Girl on FFN for letting me know I had dun messed up!

I took a cab back to Steve’s apartment, letting myself in. When I got there, Steve was waiting on the couch, he stood up and rushed to me the moment I walked in the door.

“Dani-”

“I told you not to touch me,” I said as he reached for me.

He let go. “Can we just talk about-”

“No.” 

“You made me talk about the worst stuff when we first got together-”

“Not right now,” I said. I walked past him and grabbed a few of my things, and then went to the bathroom, grabbing all my toiletries. I threw them into my small suitcase that I threw onto the bed. The bed he had just touched me on the night before, the I had sucked him off on. Had loving me just been an act?

“What are you doing?” Steve asked from the doorway.

“I’m going back to DC,” I replied.

“You’re- you’re walking out on me?” he shouted.

“I don’t know!” I cried. “I don’t know right now! I just need some space from you right now.”

“You- you made me talk about-”

“Cumming too soon? The first time we tried? Yeah, I remember that. You have done nothing but try to shape me into something I’m not!”

“What have I done?” he shouted. “I have done nothing but practically _ worship _ you- and we can’t  _ talk  _ about this-”

“Talk about what? You kissed a man tonight!”

“I did not kiss him! He _ kissed me _ !” He pounded on his chest with his fist.

“Fuck you!” I shouted. “Okay, you wanna talk? So swear to me, look me in the eye, swear on your mother and father’s graves, only the Holy Bible, are you gay, Steve? Just tell me!”

Steve’s lower lip trembled, and tears filled his eyes. His cheeks got red. “Damnit!” he shouted, and swung at the stack of books on the dresser with his bare hand. They hurtled past me with so much velocity, I heard them hit the wall and glass, making me jump, and the glass broke in the window.

I burst into fresh tears. He ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed it so hard, I was afraid he’d yank it out and roared. 

I had never seen Steve angry before. He turned away from me punched the wall, and his fist going through the drywall and I was paralyzed with fear.

He turned back around, and I ran into the bathroom, terrified.

Was he going to turn those fists on me? He could kill me. 

Oh God… 

I locked the door behind myself. Where was my phone?

“Dani, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Steve said quietly through the door. “I swear, I’m not… I’m not…”

I trembled and started weeping, sinking to the linoleum on the floor. 

* * *

When I walked out the door with my backpack on and my suitcase paced, I walked past Steve, we were unable to look at each other.

I called a cab, and waited alone in the middle of the night in Brooklyn, wearing my grandmother’s dress. My brain did nothing but play a reel of my moments with Steve against my will. And I felt even more foolish and humiliated and stupid. My stomach roiled with equal parts rage and humiliation. I wished I could just die and let the earth swallow me. I had trusted him so much.

The cabbie took me to the train station and the reel in my head wouldn’t stop. I thought I had my heart broken with Chad. This was much, much worse. How was I going to tell my family? Lauren would be so smug. Steve did exactly what she said he would. Daddy had been right: Steve was hiding something. That only added to my embarrassment.

I was a stupid, stupid girl, pathetic, do much so no man could ever want me for me.

At the train station, the last train of the night was leaving for DC was leaving at 11:05. I rushed into the train and found a seat.

I saw my reflection in the dark glass of the window I was sitting beside. My eye makeup was smeared and I looked like I was half dead. I got out my phone, and Steve had texted me. Multiple times. I didn’t bother to read them, instead I opened the text message to Alissa. All I wanted was my cat and to curl up at home in my bed and cry.

_ Hey, I’m coming home really late. I’m on a train back to DC. Can I come over and get Lourdes Marie? _

I got text bubbles almost immediately.  

_ What’s going on? _ Alissa texted me back.

_ It’s bad. I don’t think Steve and I are going to be okay. _

_ When are you getting in? _

I checked my train ticket.  _ 2:05. _

_ I will be there to pick you up. What happened? _

Tears slipping down my cheeks, I started typing out the text message, but it didn’t make sense and was way too long. I deleted it.  _ I saw a part of Steve tonight he’s been hiding from me. I think he’s been lying. I don’t know. I just don’t trust him. I’ll tell you what happened when I get home. _

She texted me a heart.  _ I love you, Dani. _

I pulled my suitcase out and found that I had grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. Using the skills of changing clothes in public I had learned in marching band, I pulled the shirt over my head and unzipped the dress before pulling the yoga pants on under the dress. I slipped the dress off my hips, and put it into the suitcase. Steve texted me again, but I couldn’t bring myself to even read the preview of the message. And now my period cramps were going insane.

The reel of everything with Steve that had seemed so perfect went through my head as I sat on the semi-deserted train to DC, cramping so badly, I could hardly move.

* * *

It was so, so late when I arrived in DC. I had tried to use some Vaseline to remove my make-up, but that did nothing for my red and swollen eyes and puffy face. I should have been cried out, but my eyes kept on leaking tears. My contacts were foggy from all the tears.

_ 24 messages from Stevie _ my phone alerted me as I zipped up my backpack. I had left my Abnormal Psych book at Steve’s apartment in my rush to leave. I still had no idea where I was with him.

I felt so weak as I pulled my suitcase off the the seat with all my cramping and body aches.  The backpack was worse, and a cramp shot up my back, into my shoulder blade.

_ Holy fuck, this is bad, _ I thought.

As I got off the train, it felt like my head was going to float off my neck. So many hypothesis had gone through my head, giving birth to new ones, I wasn’t even sure which ones had come first. I just wanted to turn off my brain.

But I couldn’t.

My legs almost collapsed underneath me as I went down the steps.

“Dani?” 

Alissa was waiting at the depot. She ran towards me and threw her arms around me. I wept in her arms.

* * *

At Alissa’s apartment in Crystal City, Lourdes Marie came up to me and got in my lap, concerned. “He’s gay,” I said.

“What?” Alissa asked, getting a glass of cold water for me and some ibuprofen.

“Steve… he’s gay. He couldn’t swear to me that he wasn’t. After he kissed a man tonight and I caught him.”

“He kissed someone else?” she repeated, her voice at almost a whisper.

“No, it… he was helping some guy-- we went to a gay bar with Nia and her boyfriend after dinner, and he disappeared, and I found him in a parking lot, having just changed a tire, talking to him, and this guy leaned over and kissed him, and… and he kissed him back. And when I asked him to swear he wasn’t gay, he couldn’t…” a sob came up. “He couldn’t swear it.”

She handed me the glass of water and a box of soft tissues with lotion in them, according to the box and sat down, her face a mask of unchanging horror. “It’s okay that the guy got the wrong idea, but didn’t Steve like, get surprised?”

I took a sip of water before dabbing at my raw, red nose with the silky-soft tissue. “He was so nice to him. Like he let him down easy. Would a straight guy do that? After a gay guy kissed him?”

“No. He’d freak out a little, wouldn’t he?”

“That’s what I thought,” I admitted.

“But… you two… you’re so in love and…”

“I know, it’s just…”

“Dani, maybe he’s not gay… not completely. Maybe he’s bi? Or pansexual?”

I wiped my eyes. “I don’t know. But he kissed him back!”

“Well, no offense, but when a guy is kissed, he usually kisses back if it’s someone he’s attracted to, even if he doesn’t want it. I guess… I guess if a man gets kissed and he’s attracted to another man, he’d do that.”

I didn’t want to imagine it, but my brain did it for me: I imagined Steve, skinny, pre-serum Steve, being kissed in a back alley of Brooklyn by a man in a pin-striped zoot suit, turning around, being pressed against a brick wall. “No!” I shouted, squeezing my eyes shut. The horrific fantasy evaporated. 

“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

“I keep asking myself that. But he  _ lied _ . This was such a big thing, though, Liss! Why would he keep it from me? My father’s bi and.. And… Liss, we met in a gay bar. And I keep thinking about all these different things about him that were dead giveaways. He knew it. He knew it and he kept it from me. He turned me into his beard! How do I know he’s not got gay lovers all over the place?”

“I don’t know,” Alissa said. “Oh, Dani… I’m so sorry.”

My phone chimed. “That’s probably him. He won’t stop texting me, but I just can’t read my text messages from him right now,” I admitted.

She hugged me and we sat there on the couch together for so long the sun started rising out the window over her balcony. My back ached, my pelvis was screaming at me on one side, and my head felt spacey. “I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed with Lourdes Marie,” I mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll call an Uber,” she said.

“No, Liss- let me-”

“You’ve had a shitty night,” she said. 

“Shitty,” I repeated. I had avoided cursing for five months for his stupid ass. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck,” Alissa agreed, getting her phone out, calling the car.

She helped me get to the elevators with Lourdes Marie in the cat carrier, and we went out to the front lobby. My head was so fuzzy and spacey…

I took a step out the front door, and a sharp cramp shot through my body, my knees gave out from under me. The world blacked out for a moment. Liss was standing over me. “Dani?”

“Oh my God…” I mumbled.

“Dani, you’ve got a fever,” she said. “Did you know that?”

“I’ve been sick for… for goddamn two months, practically,” I grumbled. “Help me get up?

I groaned as Alissa tried to help me up, the pain in my pelvis was so intense, I was afraid I’d shit my pants. She eased me back onto the pavement.

“Is she alright?” the Uber driver asked, window rolled down.

“Dani, I’m worried about you,” Alissa said.

“I’m just heartbroken and on my period and stick,” I muttered. “I wish I were dead right now.”

“No, this isn’t normal,” she said. “Look, we’re going to the hospital, to Joel’s. I just want his ER to check you out.”

“Fine,” I muttered.

She helped me into the Uber and begged him to wait on her. She took my things and Lourdes Marie upstairs to her apartment and came back back. In the car, I felt the shooting pain up my back from my pelvis to my shoulder. I groaned softly. Maybe this was a shitty period and I need prescription pain relievers.

“Hey, Liss?” I asked. “Hey, um… I might need a tampon when I get there. I haven’t changed my tampon since last night.”

“What if you have toxic shock syndrome?” Lissa asked, horrified.

“Oh shit,” I whispered.

In the ER, Joel met us out front.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, looking concerned. “Dani, come on, let’s get into a wheelchair.”

Alissa handed me a tampon. “She needs to go to the bathroom, first. I’ll go with her.”

Liss and I went to the bathroom and I stumbled into a stall. Once situated, I pulled out the tampon. It wasn’t as bloody as I thought it would be. And the blood looked different.

“Everything okay?” Alissa asked.

“Not really.”

In the ER, Joel managed to get me bypassed through to Triage ridiculously fast and I found myself in an examining room.

“What kind of symptoms are you having?” Joel asked as we waiting on the ER nurse.

“Besides a broken heart and being sick to my stomach?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Um… well, to start with, I’ve had the shittiest cold and/or allergies since March. It’s like mother nature just wants to fuck with my sinuses and throat. I think it’s a sinus infection.”

“What else?”

“Like…”

“Like your periods?”

“This is weird, okay… My period’s been weird and light since Monaco, but I think that’s because of the Plan B pill I took. It’s made me really cranky since I got back from Nashville. I guess that’s normal. But it really hurts on this side,” I said, indicating my left side of my hip. “And I’m dizzy. And my cramps are really gassy, I’ve had them all week long… I think longer? Is it a ruptured cyst?”

“Are you getting cramps up your back, up to your shoulder blade?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Dani, I’m not an ER examining physician, but what you’re describing sounds like an ectopic pregnancy.”

I almost fainted, but I heard Alissa cry out. 

“I can’t be!” I cried.

“Have you had a pregnancy test since you got back from Monaco?”

“No. I’ve gotten my period, so I didn’t think I needed to worry about it.”

“I’m going to talk to the nurse about you getting one right away. If it’s positive, we’re going to send you up to ultrasound to see if your fallopian tube’s ruptured, with the bleeding you’re having, it probably has,” Joel looked like he was about to cry, too. “I’m so sorry. But we’re going to confirm it, first. Let me go find the head nurse, I’ll be right back. Liss?”

“I’m staying right here with her as long as she needs me,” Alissa said. “Dani, I’m not leaving you, understand?”

“We don’t know yet,” Joel said, leaving the room. “Don’t panic.”

Steve and I had planned so heavily to avoid pregnancy. I had taken that hideous Plan B pill and it had been hellish, the nausea. I had been so good about taking the pill. And condoms. How many condoms had Steve and I been through? How had this happened?

The nurse came in and gave me a stick to pee on after a few questions. I went to the bathroom and mustered up all the pee I had left in my bladder to soak the pregnancy test, and the nurse took it.

“How do I tell Steve?” I asked. “In a moment like this? I can’t even read his text messages right now!”

“It’s... let’s not think about that,” Alissa said. “Not right now.”

“Oh God…” I gaped. What seemed like an eternity later, the ER physician came into the room. 

“Miss Conyers? Hi, I’m Dr Chaussanpong, I’ll be your attending physician. We got your pregnancy test back, and you are seven weeks pregnant, and we suspect it’s ectopic. We’re going to send you up to ultrasound to see if it’s ruptured your fallopian tube and if we can save the tube or if we’ll have to operate. I’ll be honest with you; these symptoms sound like a ruptured Fallopian tube and a sinus infection.”

After all the stress and heartbreak from the last twelve hours, this was making it worse. “I’m not going to survive this,” I whispered.

“We’re going to bump you to the top of the list in Ultrasound,” the doctor said. “But the ER surgeon is going to prep for emergency surgery.”

“Liss!” I cried.

Lissa was sobbing, but she took my hand.

The transport tech entered behind the doctor. “Come on,” he said. I got up and into the the wheelchair, where the ultrasound tech was waiting for me. I climbed up to the table, and she lubed my left hip with microwaved gel, and started running the wand over my pelvis.

“There it is,” the lady said. “Your tube.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I can’t say. I’m not allowed,” she said. “I can’t diagnose.” She left me alone in the room for what seemed like an eternity. I was alone with my thoughts about Steve that I couldn’t turn off and a possible ruptured ectopic pregnancy. 

The ER doctor came into the room and looked at the sonogram. “Miss Conyers, I think we’ve got enough to diagnose this as a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. If we don’t operate immediately, you’ll internally bleed to death. I’m sorry about this, but you’re going to lose your left fallopian tube.”

I didn’t have the tears to shed. I was numb.

“The OR is prepped, we’re going to admit you to the hospital right now.”

“Let me call my…” My words trailed off. I didn’t want to call Steve right now… but how couldn’t I? He had to know. And my parents… what the hell was I going to tell them?

“We don’t have time,” the doctor said. “We’re going to have the transport tech here in a moment. Don’t panic. You’re not going to have time.”

The transport tech came and whisked me through the hospital halls and brought me into the pre-op room. All I could think about was Steve finding out. How was I going to tell him? He had to find out, even if things were in a shambles between us he still deserved to know. I closed my eyes and the nurses started prepping me and sticking me with needles.

“Close your eyes, honey. This is going to be over before you know it,” the nurse said.

I wished I had at least had a chance to text Steve that I was in the hospital as they put the anesthesia mask over my face.

* * *

I woke up, my mouth feeling like sandpaper. I had to fart so badly and it hurt to move my torso. I was in a curtained off cubicle, I groaned softly. I saw I was in a hospital bed, so I called the nurse.

A moment later, a guy stuck his head into the cubicle. “Everything okay?”

“What… what happened?” I asked.

“You had a laparoscopic emergency surgery,” he said. “How’s the pain?”

“I don’t want to move,” I admitted. “Where are my friends?”

“They’re waiting, do you want to see them?”

“Yes, please,” I whispered.

A moment later, Alissa and Joel came into the room. Alissa looked terrified, and Joel was looking relieved.

“You made it through,” he said.

“What happened? Do you know?” I asked.

“The surgeon’s coming in a moment,” Joel said.

“We’ll sit with you”

“Oh my God, I am so gassy,” I admitted.

“Yeah, you’re going to have the farts big time,” Joel said. “That’s part of laparoscopic procedure recovery.”

I groaned. “What did they tell you? Was I bleeding internally?”

“I don’t know,” Joel admitted. “They couldn’t tell me those things.”

“But you just said-” Alissa started.

“They wouldn’t have let us in if the surgery hadn’t been successful,” Joel said.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s three-thirty,” he said. “In the afternoon. Just try to sleep.”

“I’ll sit with you,” Alissa said. “Joel, go home and check on Lourdes Marie. And sleep.”

“Alright. Love you,” he said. “Love you too, Dani.” He kissed my forehead before leaving the cubicle.

“You can fart in front of me,” Alissa said.

“Thanks,” I muttered. “God… this has been the worst twenty-four hours of my life. How am I going to tell Steve?”

“Um… Dani, I did some calling around. I told Steve already, he’s on his way. I called your mom and dad, too. Your dad’s trying to catch a flight to DC right now. Lauren called me and put me through 20 questions, and she wants to talk to you, if you’re ready.”

“Liss?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling him,” I mumbled. “I was too chicken to.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

Alissa’s phone rang, and it was Lauren. “How the hell did I miss this?” Lauren lamented. “Am I so into myself I completely missed that you were having ectopic pregnancy symptoms?”

“Lauren, this is all about me right now, not you,” I teased.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole when you and Steve were in town.”

“Finally. I’ll tell Steve you apologized… If we ever talk again.”

“What happened?”

“We… I…” It suddenly seemed so wrong to tell people that Steve was gay. It suddenly felt like I was telling people he was a virgin when we met. I felt guilty to confiding in Alissa. Steve couldn’t even say he was gay, yet. As hurt as I was, and as much as I could hurt him by telling everyone I knew he was gay, it would hurt him so much more if I outed him. I had no right to do that, even if it was my big sister. Maybe Steve had lied to me, but we were in the middle of this, we weren’t out of it yet. Maybe there would be no ‘we’ between Steve and I when we sorted this shit out. I was not in my right mind to decide what was a fair way to treat Steve at this point. Hell, I didn’t know if I wanted to tell the world Steve had knocked me up with an ectopic pregnancy. “We had a big fight. It was really bad, and we’re kind of still in the middle of it. This has been the shittiest day of my life, Laur… I… I don’t know where we’re going to end up right now.”

“Well… if he’s too much of an asshole to forget now that you’ve had an ectopic pregnancy with  _ his fetus _ and beg for you take him back, I was right about him.”

“I don’t know if I need to take him back or him take me back right now. Like I said, we’re in the middle of this.”

“What happened?”

“The fight was really private and there are still so many things we haven’t sorted out, yet. It’s a problem as a big as an ectopic pregnancy.”

“I will chew his Yankee ass out-”

“No, you won’t. We’ve got to figure this out and figure out where things are headed between the two of us. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to tough it out.”

Lauren’s end of the line went silent. 

“Laur, are you still there?” I asked.

“Uh-huh. You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I’m sure. Not yet.”

“Then will you tell me if you were using birth control, at least?”

“I’ve been on the pill since Steve and I started seeing each other seriously, and we were pretty good about condom use until…”

“Until what?”

“Until the trip we took to Monaco.”

“Oh my God… I betcha that’s when it happened.”

“Like within the week of.”

“You have a stash of Plan B, don’t you?”

“I do, and I took it to Monaco with me, but I didn’t take it after that one time we did it without the condom until three days later. I was within the dosage time.”

“It’s most effective when you take it immediately after,” she lectured. “Dani, why didn’t you do it?”

“Because I wanted to enjoy the trip, not be cooped up for a day with nausea when I could be enjoying a vacation with Steve in one of the most beautiful vacation spots in the world,” I admitted.

She sighed. “Oh my God… you were always the one who had her shit together, and this happens.”

“Me? Have my shit together?” I repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yes, you. Momma always said I was the dumb, fat one who’d get knocked up because I was stupid-”

“You have your BSN, you have got to be kidding me!”

“I was pregnant with Matthew when Russell and I got married,” she muttered.

“So what?” I croaked. “I basically had the equivalent of an abortion just now and I spent my entire undergrad career in therapy because I thought I was the fattest girl on the majorette line while Mom bitched about how I had cellulite and was showing it off. And the first big fight Steve and I have is probably going to break us up because I’ve only had one serious relationship before him. Who’s the big fuck up now?”  _ Only I could fall in love head over heels for a gay man _ , I thought. But this time, it wasn’t anger or bitterness. Just sadness. I was going to lose what I thought was the best relationship I had ever been in. I thought nobody could ever compare to Steve, yet… he had been dishonest with me.

Lauren sniffled. “Do you need me to come out there?”

“Daddy’s already on his way,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”   
“No, you won’t.”

“You’ve got your own shit to deal with, with Russell and the kids at home. I know your marriage is shitty, but I’m not going to tell you what to do or even ask what’s going on.”

“Okay,” she mumbled. “I love you, Dani. Even if you’re keeping things from me.”   
“I’m not… we’ll talk later.”   
“Fine.”

“I love you, too.”

“You didn’t tell her,” Alissa said as I hung up the phone. “About last night.”

“I don’t know if I have any business outing Steve right now,” I admitted. “Maybe I do, I don’t know. I’m not in the right headspace to decide. If I do feel justified, I’ll do it, but not today.”

“That’s more mature than I would have been,” Alissa admitted. “Shit, I wouldn’t know what to do if Joel had a secret life where he gay.”

“He already said he’d suck Tony Stark’s dick.”

“I forgot about that,” Alissa chuckled. “He says shit like that constantly, it’s all hypothetical. But I doubt he’d go through with it.”

“What did Steve say when you called him?” I asked. “Did you tell him what I told you?”

“He… I texted him and he called me directly. He was mobilized, but they’re sending him back right now. I didn’t tell him what you told me.”

“Thanks,” I said softly. I knew Liss could keep my secrets.

* * *

After a few hours, I was admitted to an overnight hospital room. Alissa stayed by my side the whole time. The nurse gave me a Xanax, and I went for more ultrasounds and the surgeon checked in on me, as well as Dr. C. I told Alissa to go home and get some rest while I talked to the doctor.

“You have one healthy fallopian tube left,” Dr C said after she left the room. “Your chances of another ectopic pregnancy are a little higher now, but I doubt it’ll happen again. Just use birth control very carefully for the next eight weeks while you recover, it’ll help with healing. We don’t want you ovulating in that side. And don’t have sex. At all. Even with protection.”

I nodded. “But… if I wanted to have children one day down the road, I still can?”

“I doubt you’ll have fraternal twins, but you will be able to get pregnant and have a fully functional pregnancy if you do what we tell you during recovery, including no exertion or weight lifting.” he said in the darkened room. A familiar silhouette darkened the doorway and I felt sick again.

“Hi,” Steve said. “I’m Steve Rogers, Dani’s... boyfriend. And I’m... responsible for her.”

* * *

Steve sat with me as Dr. C answered my questions, and asked a few of his own, most had me as the subject, not himself, not even implying himself. He didn’t even ask when I’d be able to have sex again. The coldness between us was so evident, it was like a block of ice.

“She’s going to be up and doing what she normally does in the next week or so. Just avoid letting her do any heavy to medium exertion for the next eight weeks while she heals.”

“But this isn’t going to impact her being able to have a baby in the future, will it?” Steve asked.

“No, it won’t,” Dr. C said.

By the time Dr. C left, I struggled to get the hospital bed in a sitting position. Steve came over and carefully helped me adjust the pillows behind my head, but the care was missing.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked.

“Stiff. Sore. Gassy. Really gross.”

“Yeah.” I missed the gentle everyday touches and the way the corners of his mouth would quirk up when he looked at me. I wasn’t sure how he felt at all right now. I hardly knew if he was even attracted to me or if this had all been joke.

We sat in stony silence for a long moment. “Okay, so… we’re in a bad place right now,” he finally said.

“Yeah, we are,” I admitted, feeling the tears gathering in my eyes. “What did Alissa tell you when she contacted you?”

“I was really surprised when Tony called me up to the cockpit, saying you had sent me a message through the coms, and when I opened it, it just said that it was Alissa and you were in the hospital. Tony patched me through on a secure line to your phone, and she told me you had passed out in front of her apartment building and she had taken you to the ER, and they found an ectopic pregnancy.”

“Did you know what that was?” I asked.

“Dani, of course I know what that is!” Steve barked, making me jump.

“I’m sorry!” I shouted back with all my strength.

He took a deep breath, and calmed his voice. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. But Tony asked me what was going on, and I told him you were going into emergency surgery and Alissa wanted me to come back home for you. But we were mobilized, in the air. Tony said I was so out of sorts, he was going to remove me from the mission anyway, and we got into a big argument about it, and he said that if you were in the hospital for whatever reason, I needed to be there. I guess… I guess he was right. I am not really okay to go into combat right now, I am so distracted by you.”

“I’m not the one responsible,  _ you _ let some little twink kiss you-”

“What did you want me to do, punch him out?”   
“Yes! Well, that’s what I’d expect of any straight man, Steve.”

“Fucking fine,” he growled. My jaw dropped. He never cursed, let alone used the F-bomb. I had never experienced this kind of anger and contempt from him before and it scared and shamed me and put me on the defense, things I had never had to be around him. “Okay, you’re not going anywhere, so I’ve got a captive audience. We’re gonna talk about this.”

I felt that roiling, nauseated feeling again. “Oh shit,” I mumbled.

“‘Oh shit’ is right,” he replied, getting up to walk around the room. “What was this about us being partners? Never being enemies? Being a team? Or was all that malarkey?”

I took a deep breath. “I thought I was the only person you’d ever loved. And wanted to be with.”

“Maybe I didn’t act on it in the past, but in a world of beautiful dames, what makes you think you’re the first woman I’ve ever been attracted to?”

“What about men, Steve? Why did you hide that from me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because this world is filled with out and proud gay people. My own father is bisexual, and you knew that! You’re around gay men all the time in New York. We met in a gay bar!” I cried.

“Okay, yeah… we met in a gay bar, sure. It wasn’t my idea to go to one that night. It was Natasha’s.”

“But you went along with it.”

“Of course. A part of me was curious. I wanted to see how the gay community lived today. It was a big, dirty secret in the forties.”

I struggled to sit up, despite my torso raging in pain. “How could you not tell me?” I asked. “Did you think I wouldn’t understand? I told you so early on about my father. If anybody could understand, why didn’t you trust me? Was I some kind of cover so people wouldn’t think you’re gay? To fool your team, your family?”

“You really think I was using you? For something? To fool the Avengers somehow?  _ Why _ would I do that?”

“I don’t know, the same reason Bill Clinton passed ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ in the military. Did you think the Avengers would turn on you if you were gay?”

“I’m not gay!” Steve snapped. “Stop saying that!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were attracted to men, too?” I sobbed, although it hurt.

“Because… because I loved you too much.”

“That’s not a reason, Steve!” I said.

“If I loved you enough, that part of me would just cease to exist,” he said, his voice trembling. “I wouldn’t _ feel _ those  _ feelings _ and I wouldn’t be a freak, someone with poor moral character, a sinner, someone doomed to hell-”

“How can you say that!” I cried. 

“Because that’s how gays were treated when I grew up. Gay men could get arrested and sent to jail for acts against nature. You could be institutionalized. You were considered a pervert, a predator, a child molester. That’s how you’re treating me right now!”

I gasped in shock.

“When we went through that concentration camp in Poland, I saw the men in the striped pajamas with a pink triangle. I found later after V-Day, they didn’t get set free or sent home. They served out their sentences for another fifteen years. Oh God! Sent to extermination camps just for loving another person? I was so ashamed of this part of myself, the moment I saw you, and you saw me, you didn’t see that. You’d look at me with so adoration, so much joy when you saw me, your face would light up.”

“Did you really love me?” I whispered through my tears.

“ _ Did _ I love you?  _ Of course _ I love you! I never stopped! That is the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me! And-- Oh my God, it’s like you’re driving a knife into my heart and twisting it right now!”

I was unable to put it together in that moment.

“I thought if I just loved you enough, that part of me that got turned on by men would just fall away. I’d only feel that way about you, and I was normal again, safe. But when that kid kissed me to say thank-you and offer me sex in return, I… yeah, I kissed him back, but I’ve done that every time I’ve been kissed in my life, I just… that’s just what I do. But the moment he surprised me, all I could think of was you. How hurt you’d be that someone else kissed me, anybody. How the only person I wanted to kiss and hold in my arms was you, and I realized how desperate he was for companionship, how much it hurt to not have what I have with you. What I  _ thought _ I had with you. I remembered how lonely I had been when Bucky enlisted and I was friendless and all alone in Brooklyn before the experiment, and God help me, I felt sorry for him. At that moment, all that was going through my head and that I had to be kind, to let him down easy. I’d never tell you, even you’re always blabbing on and on about having empathy and compassion for others and how much everybody needs it. And then you appeared out of thin air, it all went to hell. You just assumed how I felt. I’d have told you about him kissing me by surprise anyway, but you never let me explain, you just accused me of being gay, like I didn’t love you. I’m pretty sure that hurts more than trying to deny that part of myself that I thought would just fade away if I spent my life worshipping the ground you walked on.”

I couldn’t speak. It was coming together for me, like when a fog cleared when you were walking and a tree or a house into sight. 

He had never  _ not _ loved me. But I had assumed he had been faking it for some ill-begotten use.

“I have felt attraction towards men before, but I felt it with girls too. When I said I loved you, I meant it. I wasn’t lying. I’ve never lied to you, Dani. I’ll swear that on a stack of bibles, my every ancestor’s grave, and on the Virgin Mary Herself, I have never lied to you. But, I lied to myself. I was in denial, maybe I kept things from you that I couldn’t admit to myself. But I knew you were worth it. Or at least I  _ thought _ you were.”

I looked up at him through my tears, and I saw that his eyes were filled with tears, too.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Oh my God… Steve, I…”

“I trusted you to believe me,” he whispered. “I trusted you.”

“I trusted you, too,” I said.

“Then when I told you I wasn’t gay, why didn’t you believe me?”

“Because…” the ugly truth was something I didn’t want to admit. “I was afraid I wasn’t enough for you. And I needed to be angry at you so I didn’t have to...” I couldn’t finish my sentence. “It was easier to be angry at you than to look at myself and think I wasn’t enough to keep you.”

Steve wasn’t gay. He was attracted to men, but not just men alone. He was attracted to me, too. I was the daughter of a bisexual, and his bisexuality got erased when he made commitments in love like marriage. When he was married to my mother, he was assumed to be straight. When he married Harland, they all said he was gay, like he chosen a side, like the bisexuality was only a phase between deciding between gay and straight. I myself had felt like I was immune to such a grievous offense against love and sexuality, but I had just done it, to my shame, with the person closest to me.

“Why would you think that?” Steve asked, stunned.

“I thought… you were choosing a side,” I admitted. “That I drove you away.” I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, unable to face him. “Oh, Steve, how can you even stand the sight of me right now? I just tried to erase your bisexuality. I tried to make your choice for you.”

“I  _ did _ make my choice. I chose  _ you _ ,” he said. 

The guilt wracked my system. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. If that had been a pretty girl kissing Steve for changing her car’s tire, I’d have run up to that bitch and punched her in her fucking face and called her a dirty slut for throwing herself at another woman’s boyfriend. I would have hugged Steve later and told him he dealt with her in a classy way by trying to let her down easy. But instead, because it was a man kissing him, and he kissed him back, I had doubted myself and tried to push him away so I could be the victim. I was not the victim, but I had made myself the villain while trying to be the sympathetic, mistreated one. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

I heard him sit down, the chair legs scraping the hospital tile. “So what are we going do? What does this mean?”

“How can you stand me at all?” I asked. I had jumped to so many conclusions, unfair ones, when it had all been an innocent case of him trying to help, to be the Boy Scout, and some guy- some  _ person _ mistaking that as an invitation for sex when it really hadn’t been. How many men had tried to put a lot of “I was nice to you, so you owe me sex’ tokens in me and it hadn’t worked and got angry with me when I didn’t reciprocate like they wanted? Why had I just assumed Steve would punch somebody out for kissing him without consent, like some macho barbarian? Steve was better than that. He was definitely better than me right now.

“I’m mad at you right now, but that doesn’t change that I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” I admitted, my voice tiny.

“You pissed me off really bad last night,” he said. “I’m sorry I hit things and punched a hole in the wall. My landlord’s probably going to charge me an arm and leg for that, but I didn’t meant to scare you. But I wish you had just  _ asked _ instead of  _ assumed _ .”

I finally stopped digging the heels of my palms into eye sockets. “I… would you have told me you’re bisexual last night if I had asked and not jumped to conclusions?”

“I…” I finally looked at him, sitting in that chair. “I… am… bisexual. Yes.” He sighed. “Yes, I’m bisexual… I don’t know if I could have put those words together to describe myself if you had asked, but yeah… I’m not only attracted to women. And it’s not a choice, because if it were, I’d chose differently because it’s not easy to like men. Not in the society I grew up in, not even now. But can you handle this about me?” It looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

Oh God… I was a horrible girlfriend and horrible person. And he was asking me if I’d stay with him, still, and I definitely did not deserve him right now. Possibly ever.. “Yeah. I think I can if you’re willing to forgive me,” I admitted.

“Then, I think we’re going to be okay.”


	27. Chapter 27

I loved my bisexual boyfriend.

Oh, holy shit. Steve was bisexual, not unattracted to me and I hadn't been making a fool of myself with the sexual gymnastics I put myself through to impress him in bed. His affection for me hadn't been an act, he hadn't used me. He genuinely loved me. I felt so stupid that I had jumped to the conclusion that he was fucking every gay man in New York City when we were apart.

And we weren't breaking up just yet.

I was enough for him, too, apparently. But I didn't feel like it right now.

"You still want to be with me?" I asked. He said we were going to be okay, but I didn't feel it, yet. "Even now?"

"I told you, I'm going to do my best to stick it out with you because I love you. I'm not gonna just call it quits because we had a fight. Are you?"

"No," I admitted, my voice tiny. I was surprised he even asked. If the positions had been switched, I realized I would have tried to work it out, too. "I'm not going to stop loving you just because you're bi."

"So we can work this out," he admitted. "This has been a hellish twenty-four hours for me, too."

"Yeah," I agreed, dabbing at my eyes with the sheet.

"Will you stop crying?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "There's a part of me that always felt like I didn't deserve you."

"What?"

"Yeah. I you seemed too good to be real and… I didn't think you could be, sometimes. And I was so worried you were seeing other women."

"You think I didn't worry about those things with you? That you'd find out about how I wasn't… straight? I wasn't born a super soldier? And reject me? All those successful politicians around DC and college professors who didn't work in dangerous warzones all the time being around you?"

"I'm sorry."

"I really thought if I loved you enough, it would never come up."

I curled up in the bed, my torso aching.

"It did. It changed everything."

I looked at him sitting in the chair, staring at the floor. He looked tired. So tired.

He was still my boyfriend. And despite my reaction, he still wanted to give our relationship a go. He was still my Stevie. Our relationship was not just an act. "It didn't," I said. "You're still the same man, just… I know something new about you."

There was a knock on the door.

"Dani?" Daddy asked.

"Hi, Daddy," I sighed in relief.

My father looked haggard in the low light as he came over to me and bent down to kiss me, since I hardly had the energy to lift my arms to hug him.

"I am so relieved you are in recovery," Daddy said. He looked up. "Steve." He remarked curtly.

"Curtis," Steve replied in the same tone, standing up. "I wish I could say it's good to see you, but this is not the situation."

"Definitely not," Daddy agreed.

"I um… you know, I haven't really thought about how I was going to face you, my first thoughts were about Dani. My only thoughts have been about her since I got the call, but I am deeply, deeply sorry I put your daughter in this position-"

"Son, no," Daddy said, sounding almost annoyed. "These things happen, and there's no rhyme or reason sometimes."

"Sir," he said. "I'll make this right. I can marry Dani once her doctor says she can have clergy come up-"

"Hold up!" I cried.

"Wait a second!" Daddy cried. "Steven, hold your horses-"

"I will make her an honest woman-" Steve continued.

"Steve, I'm not going to marry you just because we got pregnant," I cried. "That's not a good reason to get married and I don't want to enter a marriage out of guilt about how other people see us."

"People know, Dani," he said, looking dejected. "What good am I if I put you in this condition and didn't-"

"This is way too early to talk about. Let's not jump the gun on anything," Daddy said.

"Baby," I start gently. "Lots of people get pregnant outside of marriage these days. It's not the scandal is used to be in the forties. People have babies together and raise them without ever getting married anymore."

"The pregnancy never had a chance to survive anyway," Daddy said. "It doesn't really count."

Steve rubbed his face with both his hands and then up into his hair, turning towards the window, groaning softly.

"What happened?" Daddy asked me.

"I was at Alissa's and she called an Uber for me, and I collapsed when we got out of the building. And she took me to the hospital, and the ER doc had me take a pregnancy test."

"You never took one before now?"

"Not since we got back from Monaco," I admitted. "They said I was like six weeks along. They sent me to ultrasound to see if they could save my fallopian tube, they told me they couldn't, and they rushed me into emergency surgery. I didn't even have to chance to call anybody."

"Thank God for Alissa and Joel," Daddy said.

"Yeah," Steve muttered, still looking out the window. "A part of me asks how this could have happened, but then again, I _know_. Look, I'm to going anywhere until Dani's fully recovered."

"Steve?" Daddy asked. "Son, turn around look at me. Listen: thank you for being here as soon as you could be while she gets better. Why don't you go to Dani's apartment and get some rest-"

"No, I said I'm going to be here. With Dani, I'm not leaving this hospital until she does."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

* * *

Steve took the couch while Daddy took the chair. He insisted Steve try to rest for a few hours and get some sleep while he and I talked.

Daddy turned on CNN and we watched for a few minutes while Steve closed his eyes.

"I know you and Steve had a fight. A really bad one. He didn't… he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"It's private," I said.

"He didn't hurt you?"  
"No, Daddy, he's never laid a finger on me."

"Did you find out what he's been hiding?"

"I've always known. He doesn't keep secrets from me. He can't tell me about things he does with special ops, but I trust he'll always tell me with what he can."

"So tell me… where did he really go to basic? I have friends in the Air Force still, they told me that they haven't been able to find a Steven Grant Rogers in the Army in the last thirty-five years that matches his description."

"Daddy-"

"I want to know who my daughter's boyfriend is, and he's not telling the truth about somethings."

"He's told me the truth."

"How do you know it's the truth?"

"Because I've met his special ops team and they're legit."

"How do you know that?"

I groaned. "Daddy, drop it."

"The day you were born, I held you, your little head fit into my hand and your little eyes wouldn't even open up, and I swore I would do everything in my power to protect you until the day I died, with my last living breath. You're in a serious relationship with a man I cannot trust."

"His military file is redacted," I said. "That's why your Air Force buddies couldn't find anything on him."

"Why?"

"He's not technically _in_ the military any longer, but he does work for a branch of the government. He has been for a… a long time."

"Jesus Christ… Do you even know which branch?"

"Yeah, I do, I figured it out and he confirmed it. But I can't tell you which one."

Daddy sighed, and then sighed again. He got up and walked around the room for a moment, not looking at me. "I just want to protect my baby. I don't know this Steve person very well at all, this is only the second time I've met him face-to-Face and he just said he'd marry you to protect your reputation. If that doesn't sound suspicious, I don't know what does."

"You don't know him."

"If my Air Force friends could find records on him, I'd feel better. But something about him just doesn't add up, Danielle."

"Daddy-"

"I've called my friends on Metro-"

"Daddy!" I cried.

I saw Steve jump in the corner of my eye.

"You're not gonna find anything," I bluffed.

"I'm so sure. I don't hate him, but I'm suspicious, honey. He's not someone I'd want marrying you, he seemed awfully keen on it, though."

"He's old-fashioned, he didn't want me shamed. But wait a second, are you saying that you're not giving your blessing?"

"Not right now. No."

I sighed. "Daddy, don't do that to me."

"I can't go against my conscience, especially not with you. My job, my reason for living, is to protect you and your sister."

"Steve takes it as his job to protect me, too. And if you wouldn't give us your blessing, we'd just go against it. You'll see, he's not a creep and he's not a conman."

"Don't you dare-"

"I'm an adult woman, Daddy. Don't **_you_** _dare_ put me in this position to have to go against your blessing."

"I wasn't as careful as I should have been when Lauren asked me for my blessing to marry Russell, and now they're struggling. I wish I hadn't done it so freely. I won't make that mistake with you."

"Steve and I almost got married in Monaco, if we had found a priest willing to do it for us, but the one thing that held me back was that our families wouldn't be there and we agreed we weren't going to even consider ourselves engaged until we went through the proper channels and did it the right way."

"I woulda killed you if you came back married to someone I had never met. And now you're fighting-"

"Steve's an honorable man. And yeah, we had a pretty big misunderstanding and disagreement, but we're working it out and it's private."

"You're not going to tell me what it was, are you?"

"No. Not yet. But I was the one in the wrong, not him."

Daddy didn't respond, but I could see his mind churning thoughts.

"Let's just leave it at that, okay? I can handle this."

"If you say so." Daddy's words didn't convince me.

* * *

Daddy went to get checked into a hotel for the night, since it was going to be Steve sleeping in the hospital room with me. He promised to come back with some breakfast biscuits and coffee first thing in the morning.

"Your Pops really does not trust me," Steve said, sitting up from the couch.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"You really stood up for me, though."

I nodded.

"Thank you for not telling your father I'm…"

"It's not my secret to tell. But I am your girlfriend, and I'd be a really shitty one if I told something so personal about you to the rest of the world."

"You are a good girlfriend," he admitted. "Now that I think about it, I don't blame you for reacting the way you did last night."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize. I know why you did what you did. I'm not sure if I was keeping something from you or I was lying to myself."

"You know, denial can be a pretty strong emotion."

Steve nodded. "Yeah. It can. I'm at fault here, too. I wish I had been brave enough to stand up like you just did to your father. We could have avoided this if I had…"

"But you did. You're brave. You face down enemies of the world every day, you're a superhero."

"But I haven't been brave enough to face down myself."

I realized the torso pain was fading just a little bit. "You weren't at fault, like you told your pops. Not completely. We're both at fault here."

"We still love each other," I said. "I'm just seeing a part of you that you guarded from the world, finally. You're letting your walls down with me, that's what relationships are all about. I do love you."

"I love you, too. And… I still want this to work."

"Me too."

"I feel like we've lost a lot," he admitted. "All in a moment."

"The… the idea of you being straight? Steve, I see you a little differently, but I don't love you any less."

"No, not that. We made a baby. Maybe by accident, but it was us, we created something. I don't know if this was an effect or problem with the super soldier serum or what, but… we could have been parents… I lost my own too soon. And I never thought I'd be a father. But I almost became one. For just a moment, when Alissa said you had an ectopic pregnancy, a little part of me hoped you could carry it to term, and then she said you were going into emergency surgery and I knew that was the end of it."

I felt a tear slide down my swollen cheek. After all my childhood had been so messed up with a crazy, alcoholic mother, I had always told myself I'd be a better mother to my children. And when I fantasized about Steve, I thought we'd have the perfect family together, we'd plan it and it would be the best little family and he'd be the best dad, especially after I saw how much he had taken to Matthew.

The loss hit me pretty hard, suddenly. "We did lose a lot," I admitted. "But this isn't the end. The doctor said I'll still be able to have a baby one day. That's promising, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Steve agree. "It is."

* * *

My mother showed up right as I was being discharged from the hospital the next day, with discharge orders to go to an OB GYN and a therapist and a few new prescriptions, including one for an antidepressant. I knew I'd need a lot of support to get over this fight Steve and I had had, and the loss of a pregnancy. I knew my hormones were going to be crazy and I felt some grief and guilt over this.

"Danielle, my baby!" she sobbed. "I can't believe this happened to you! How- what-" She turned, her over-exaggerated grief turning to rage, glaring at Steve. "How could you do this to my daughter?!" she shrieked. She charged at him, fists up and got one good strike in on his chest, and Steve caught her other wrist easily and she wailed, melodramatically. Security showed up in my room. Steve didn't show any expression. "My baby lost a pregnancy! You took advantage of her!" she bellowed.

"Ma'am," the security guard said.

"Steve?" I asked.

"How could you?" Momma shrieked.

I was horribly embarrassed. "Ma'am," the security guard repeated.

"I've got this under control," Steve promised the security guard. "She's not going to hurt me."

"Momma," I said. "Steve and I are okay with each other, we're mourning this together, he didn't do anything to me on purpose."

Momma sank to her knees, bawling.

"She's like this," Daddy whispered to the guard. "Ex-wife."

"Oooooh."

"Momma, get up," I commanded. "This is ridiculous."

"Don't tell me what's ridiculous!" she snapped. Steve was still holding her wrists and she hung there like a life-sized doll.

"Momma, he's coming back to my apartment with me, and he's going to stay there until the doctor says I'm recovered, so stop this," I snapped.

"Are you okay?" Alissa whispered. I was so thankful she had brought hemorrhoid cream and tea bags for my eyes to get the swelling out.

"I'm fine," I whispered back. "Momma, you're embarrassing me." Steve shot me a helpless look over Momma. I suppressed a laugh: my first laugh since the fight we had had.

"Rosalie," Daddy said, going over to her. "Get up. Steve, you can let go of her hands, we're leaving. You're welcome to come with us to Dani's apartment."

"Where will I stay?" Momma asked, as if she didn't have enough money to rent a hotel room. "I want to take care of my daughter."

I almost choked at that, laughing and screaming at the same time. This narcissistic woman, in my memory, had never cared for me without getting something in return from what other people thought or having an ulterior motive or how my reaction made her feel.

"Danielle," Daddy warned.

"Miss Conyers?" the transport tech asked from the doorway. "Are you ready to go?"

"Oh, I'm ready," I said, shuffling over to the wheelchair. "Get me out of here."

"Joel's waiting at the main entrance," Alissa said.

"Momma?" I asked.

Momma was still weeping on the floor.

"I guess we're just gonna leave her there," I said as the transport tech wheeled me out. Alissa snorted.

"Holy God…" Daddy muttered.

Joel was waiting in the Aztec, and Steve made sure I was carefully placed in the front passenger seat while Daddy and Alissa made sure my suitcase and backpack were in the cargo space in the back with Lourdes Marie, who was in her carrier, meowing at me.

Momma came running out of entrance. "Danielle, my baby!" she wailed.

"We're going home," Daddy said to her.

Momma reached for the back door, and Daddy stopped her.

"Momma, get your own ride," I said, exhausted.

* * *

I was tucked into my bed, and Alissa had put fresh sheets on it for me while I had been in the hospital. The were get-well-soon cards from our class, from my dance class, and from work waiting for me. Daddy had gone to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions. Lourdes Marie was curled up next to me on the bed, purring as I stroked her soft fur.

I was home.

Momma had come by briefly, and said she was going to give me my first bath in four days (I had nothing but sponge baths since surgery, which weren't nearly as sexy as they sounded and I wasn't nearly as clean as I wanted to be). She cried out in shock when she went into my tiny bathroom and discovered my tiny shower stall, then decided she was going to rearrange my kitchen, which stressed me out so badly, Daddy basically kicked her out, and she had gone into a rage, saying no one was allowing her to take care of her sick daughter. When she finally got into the Uber and left, all five of us just sat there in silence, relieved.

Right now, Steve, Alissa, and Joel were playing cards at my breakfast nook table, and I kept hearing Joel remark, stunned, how was Steve winning every round? I had the feeling they were playing blackjack and Steve was counting cards.

My front door opened, and Daddy walked into the tiny apartment. I had never had this many people in it at once before, and I was a little ashamed of the pile of laundry that was spilling out of the closet that Alissa had throw into the basket haphazardly.

"I got every prescription. Dani, how ya feeling?" he asked.

"Calm," I replied. "It still hurts to move my torso."

"I think we're going to head home," Alissa said. "I'll come by in the morning."

"I've got another shift starting at six," Joel admitted. "I need to get some shut-eye."

"I think that's a good idea," Steve agreed.

"Liss? Joel? I love you," I said. They both came over and gave me an abbreviated hug and kiss before they went out the door. Daddy and Steve made sure I had my first dose of prescriptions with a glass of water and Daddy gave me a kiss good-bye to go to the hotel to get some sleep.

That left Steve and me alone in my apartment.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Dani," Steve said. "Your ma's completely insane."

"Now you understand why I've got such a strained relationship with her?" I asked.

"She was acting like she was in a Hollywood picture show! Real people don't act that way!"

"Yeah, imagine growing up with a mother like that."

"I get why you went to live with your dad."

I nodded. "Yeah," I agreed.

"Listen… you need a shower."

"I know," I agreed, and reached for the covers to toss them off without disturbed Lourdes Marie. I didn't have the motility to toss them. Steve reached for them and pulled them back for me and then took my hand to get me up.

"Come on," he said.

"Steve-" I panicked. My calves were like sandpaper, and I had managed to hide them from him so far. I shaved my legs religiously when he was in town, and I did not want him seeing the gross side of my hairy body.

"I've seen you naked before, remember?" he reminded me, pushing my yoga pants off my hips.

"Steven-" I pressed my knees together to hold my yoga pants in place.

"What are you freaking out about?" he asked, gently.

"I… Steve, I haven't had a chance to shave my legs since we went out to dinner with Nia and Creighton!" I shouted.

"I know," he said, shrugging.

"Don't look at me!"

"I'm looking at you right now!"

"No, don't look at my legs!"

"Dani, you're being ridiculous."

"I have worked so hard to hide this from you," I said, cringing. "But Steve… I have to shave my legs almost constantly when you're around."

"Dani," he repeated, an easy smile crossing his face, finally. "I know."

"What?"

"I know you've got more body hair than I do if you stopped shaving," he laughed.

My cheeks burned red and I started laughing too. This was so stupid to be embarrassed about, but I was. I pressed my hand to my face, too embarrassed, but I was laughing.

"In Monaco, when we went to the beach, you were laying on your stomach, reading a book on your phone, and I saw this strip of leg hair you had missed on the back of your thigh, and it was so long, I could have braided it!" He laughed even harder.

I laughed too, horrified and hysterical at myself all at once. "Oh my God…"

"I didn't say anything because I noticed how you'd lock yourself in the bathroom so often and I'd find pink, used shaving cream in the sink and the bathtub, and I thought, _why the hell do you shave_ everything? _Even the places normal people don't shave_?"

"I don't know," I mumbled between embarrassed giggles.

"It's the Greek part of you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I giggled, burying my face into his chest. He hugged me.

"That strip of leg hair you missed, it was cute. It was endearing. I still love you…. sasquatch."

"Hey!" We were laughing and giggling again. It felt like we were Steve and Dani again.

We were going to be fine.

* * *

Steve helped me into the shower, and we were both naked, although he didn't fit in the shower stall with me, he washed me off and washed my hair. I felt like a new woman. He even helped me shave my legs by wrapping me up in a towel and setting me down on the closed toilet seat.

"I'm not shaving anything else for you," he said, wiping my leg off with a wet washcloth. "You're just going to have to go _au-naturale_ until you can do this for yourself."

"You can't even shave me above the knee?"

"Nope." He got up off the floor and kissed me on the lips, quickly. It still had the same effect only a little better. I was sad we couldn't make love for the next six weeks as he exited my tiny bathroom in his cotton pajama pants hanging off that perfect ass. "Sorry, Sasquatch."

"Hey!" I cried, giggling. "It hurts to laugh, damnit!"

"Then stop laughing, I'm getting your pajamas! The unicorn ones!"

We giggled about it for the rest of the night, too wound up to sleep.

It was nice to be loved, regardless of the things I thought were disgusting about myself. I knew Steve felt that way, even more intensely than I did about his sexuality all this time. This kind of shame was ridiculous and he didn't need to carry it. I hoped it hadn't become a schema for him, though, part of what he believed about himself. It was freeing to not have to carry a secret, usually. I hoped he felt that way, too.

"Did I ever tell you I kissed a girl once?" I asked as we got into bed, resting my head on his chest so I could look up at him.

"Yeah, you did, come to think of it. You didn't like it?"  
"It just felt… wrong. When I kiss you, it's fireworks. My pulse races and my skin tingles. It wasn't that with her. That's how I knew I wasn't a closeted lesbian."

"That's where I suspected…"

"You've kissed other men?"

"Yeah. In the forties."

My insecurities started bubbling in my stomach.

"Did you have sex with them?"

"Dani-"

"Well, did you?"

"No. Of course not. I told you that!"

"Sex with a man is different than sex with a woman," I pointed out. "But it's still sex."

"Okay, fine: I went home with a man I met in 1942 when I braved the gay bar after Bucky left for basic, and we kissed but…"

"You backed out?" I asked, hopefully.

"Yeah. The fear of stigma got me. But… It was kind of like when I first kissed you. Fireworks."

"Oh."

"But kissing you has gotten better and better."

"Come to think of it, it has," I agreed.

"Do you want to know why I moved to Brooklyn when I turned eighteen and Ma died?"

"Did it have to do with…"

"Yeah. DUMBO was the notoriously gay neighborhood in New York at that time. And since I was a five-foot wimp that a gust of wind could have knocked over, I thought I had no chance with the girls. I thought… art school… I can't tell you how many times I tripped over two gay fellas going at it in back alleys."

"Are you kidding me, that's-"

"Well, they couldn't bring each other home to their families, could they?"

"I guess not. It's almost funny."

"It _is_ funny," Steve said, chortling. "I didn't think I'd meet Bucky in Brooklyn, but…"

I felt a brick in my stomach as he shrugged. "But?" I coaxed.

"But what?"

"Steve, was he…"

"Okay… I had feelings towards him. He never seemed to return them, I thought, but one night, he got really drunk, like black-out swacked and ended up outside my window at the boarding house, throwing pebbles from the alley. I went down to meet him, and he just started flappin' his jaw, not really making sense. He kissed me in that alley. Backed me up against a wall and just laid one on me. I was shaken up, it was like he felt the same way about me that I did for him. It was amazing, it was like… like our first kiss. And he backed off, and told me he had to go home, and left me there in that alley. In the morning on my way to class, he came into school, all hungover, we talked, he didn't remember even coming to my place. I guess that's why I thought of him as my best friend. I hoped one day, it would happen again."

"It never did, did it?" I asked, feeling so sad for Steve. He spoke so lovingly of Bucky. I wished I had had a chance to meet him.

"No. Even when he was drunk."

I knew that feeling. I hated that feeling. I had had a few crushes do that to me in high school. "I'm sorry," I said softly. What would have happened to Steve and Bucky if he had returned Steve's feelings? I wasn't sure.

I realized how lucky I was and how close I was to him, now. He didn't let people in this closely. He had let down the wall for me, and me alone. "Steve?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Thank you for trusting me with this and letting me in."

"Thanks for showing me it's not a dealbreaker."

* * *

My phone rang as I carefully buttoned up my jeans while Steve was out on a run and picked up my backpack. This was the first time the torso pain felt like the occasional stiff muscle and Steve was going to take me to Abnormal Psych. I had caught up with the school work by the time Daddy had flown back to Nashville, and I needed to get back to regular life. Daddy insisted on replacing my lost income from the diner until I was healed completely, and Steve had gone out and bought me a new, light-weight MacBook Air, since my HP laptop was old, slow, and probably weighed fifteen pounds. I had tried to reject it, but Steve told me that there was no way I was going to carry that into a school building for class, and bought all my text books for my kindle app on my iPad. My backpack was so light now, it hardly felt like anything at all.

I checked my phone, and it was Natasha.

"Hey," I said.

"Hi," she said. "So, the last time we saw Steve, he said you were in emergency surgery, and he's not answering his phone, but then again, he's not on call for the next two months. How are you?"

"I'm doing a lot better," I admitted.

"That's good to hear. The team's pretty curious about what's going on, since Steve sent us a group email that he's going to stay in DC and take care of you, and won't answer texts. So we drew straws and I think the others cheated. So, what happened?"

"Okay, while Steve's out on a run, I'll tell you: I had an ectopic pregnancy and it ruptured my fallopian tube."

There was a long silence on Nat's end. "Yeah, we thought that was it."

"How'd you guess?"

"Tony would never hack a private, high-stakes conversation between you and Steve, but he could hear Alissa a little bit when she called him in the quinjet. I made them not agree not to assume anything or guess. I wanted to hear it directly from either one of you, not gossip."

"Well… thanks for stopping gossip. You're true fam."

Nat laughed. "I guess so. And men are just as bad as women about gossip."

"Yeah, they are," I agreed. "They just want to pretend they aren't."

"Are you okay with me telling them?" she asked. "It's okay if you say no."

"I am, Steve's ready to marry me so people won't call me a slut or something."

"He's a regular Boy Scout."

"Definitely," I agreed, thinking of him voluntarily changing someone's car tire at the gay bar. "Look, Nat… I know the night Steve and I met, we were in a gay bar, he said it was you that wanted to go to one."

"Technically, it was," Nat said. "We took Steve around the nightclubs in DC that night and he was too nervous to talk to any of the girls, when he did, he'd strike out. I thought they were all stuck up and expecting too much."

"Did you take him to the gay bar in hopes he'd hit it off with a man?" I asked directly.

Another long silence from Nat. "Yeah, I did. You know?"

"I didn't. For a long time. Until the night before I went to emergency surgery, I was completely oblivious to it and then, everything just became so obvious. I feel pretty stupid I didn't see the warning signs… not that it was dangerous, I didn't mean it that way."

"It's easy to miss those kinds of things in the people we love. We believe the things we want to hear."

"But you knew?"

"I'll be honest… we all suspected about him, although he's never said it and we'd never be so gauche to ask something so personal and private. And we all love him enough to just want him to be happy, regardless of if he's with a man or woman. And he's over the moon for you, and we all love you, too, even Tony, who's never met you. Oh, and you should know S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't like it one bit, but we'll defend the two of you to the death to them."

"Thanks."

"But promise me you'll won't hurt him."

"I've already promised that."

"Are you okay with him being bi? You're not going to treat him like shit, right?"

It didn't surprise me that the Avengers knew he wasn't straight. "No, no way. The last couple of days have been tough, but we've come to terms. I'm okay with it. I kind of love him more than I ever did before. It's just a part of him. This is who Steve is. All that's going to happen is we might find Indiana Jones hot if we see him with shirt off in a movie. That's really the biggest concern I have right now about it."

"Good. Because you know I can hurt you. Badly."

"I do," I admitted. "I remember that."

The door opened and my sweaty boyfriend burst through.

"Hey!" I cried.

"Hi, Sasquatch," he said, coming over to the kiss me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Hi, Steve," Natasha said.

"Is that Nat?"

"Yeah, it is," I said, turning it on to speaker. "She called to talk to me about what the surgery was. Why didn't you tell the team what happened?"

"It's none of their business!" Steve cried.

"Steve, we all know you have sex with your girlfriend " Nat called. "And nobody cares!"

Steve groaned. "Ugh, stop!"

I burst out laughing.

"We all know about the talk you and Clint had on the way back from Liberia in the back of the quinjet."

"I'm gonna take a shower so I can take you class," Steve said, cheeks turning red.

"You do that," I said.

"He knows I'm going to tell you regardless, he doesn't wanna hear it," she scoffed as the bathroom door slammed shut.

"Okay, what happened?"

"So that was the night Steve bet Tony for his Monaco vacation home," Nat said. "After he won, Clint sat down across from him in the back of the quinjet and they had a 'talk.'"

"A 'talk' huh?"

"Yeah. He thought I couldn't hear it. I hear everything on the quinjet, even over the engines."

"What did Clint say?" I asked, curious.

"Clint said, 'I know Dani's really special and you want to show her a good time, but women are really different from the 1940s,'" Nat said, taking a bite of something. "Steve protested for a moment, saying that you two didn't really have problems, but Clint said that women today had different expectations, and he just wanted to make sure, it was very big brother. He said, 'There are four things women expect today that they probably didn't back in World War II."

"Oh really?" I asked.

"Oh yes. Clint is an amazing man. All the men in the Avengers are, don't get me wrong, but I wish more men out there were like that. First, he said, 'you gotta get consent. Don't do anything unless she states she's okay with it, none of this 'no is yes' bullshit and if she freaks out, stop everything you're doing immediately.' Steve said that wasn't a problem. Second, it was always use protection, girls like it when men show them that kind of respect."

"Yeah, we kind of messed up a little in Monaco on that, but that was more my fault than anything."

"Well, it happens. Clint said it was a turn-on for women if you offered it. And then, he said, foreplay: if think you've done enough, you probably haven't and do twice that, don't just get down to business without it. I was thinking, oh, God, why don't men care about that? Why do they need to be reminded?"

"Oh my God," I said, thinking of how Steve's love-making technique had suddenly changed drastically when we went on vacation together. I had to find a non-creepy way to do something nice for Clint. Koulourakia seemed to be a hit.

"I know, right? And then, he said, 'And go down on her, goddamnit, just go down.'"

I burst out laughing. "He did?" I laughed.

"Yes. Men didn't like doing that until a few years ago, it was like a challenge to their masculinity."

"How do you know this?"

"I'm older than I look. Anyway, Steve got all squeamish about it, and then Clint said, 'if she does it for you, you need to be doing it back. It's not that bad, really, and they're more likely to do whatever you want if you do it right.' I could feel the embarrassment radiating off him all the way from the cockpit, and Tony was biting his fist, tears running down his cheeks, he was laughing so hard. And then Clint told him, the internet has a lot of advice, but don't click on any videos, read the articles instead."

I was cackling at this point.. "I bet he's wishing he could drown in the shower right now," I said.

"Me too. It's funny, but don't bust his chops about it... too much. The guys already do it enough. You don't know how many men I've dated that I wish had big brothers or best friends like Clint to give that kind of advice."

"I wish that, too," I admitted, thinking about shitty my sex life had been with Chad. It was obvious to the rest of Steve's team that I was his first, but Nat wasn't telling me that. They knew it was a sensitive subject for him, just as much as the bisexual part of his nature. And Nat did really care about him like a brother. If Steve's flesh-and-blood family hadn't survived to today, I understood, the Avengers were the next best thing to a family. If we made it to a wedding, my family would be there, and so would his.

* * *

Steve met me outside the building on the GWU campus after I finished classes. Kamika and Mia had hugged me and welcomed me back. It was nice to be back in the real world, out of the hospital and my little studio apartment.

"How was school?" he asked, taking my backpack, leaving my arms free.

"Good. The faculty is allowing me the missed class, since I did the work to make up for it," I said. "It was interesting, too. I can't wait for Advanced Abnormal Psych."

"What do you want me to try to make for dinner?" His attempts at cooking were improving slowly but surely. But most of his cooking left something to be desired and I had to coach him and we ordered take out. I was pretty sure I'd gain twenty pounds before the recovery date was up. I wrinkled my nose unintentionally. "You're not hungry?"

"I am a little bit, but I'm getting cabin fever. Can we walk for a few minutes? It's a beautiful day."

"Sure, if you're up to it."

"I am. The doctor says it's good for me to get some light cardio in," I said.

"The National Mall's not that far away," he said.

"Perfect."

Steve took my hand and we started the trek.

The spring blooms on the trees weren't even that bad. The constant sinus problems I had since Monaco were exaggerated allergies from my hormones and morning sickness. I had missed so many signs that I was pregnant because I had been spotting.

A group of kids, maybe fifth or sixth grade, walked past us, giggling and chatting, a school field trip, and I realized we were at the National Mall.

"Where do you want to go first?" I asked.

"If you're hungry, the American Indian Museum's cafeteria is said to be the best place to eat out here."

"I've never eaten there, and I've lived here almost a year."

"My treat," he said.

"I'm up for it," I said. I told Steve about the lecture from today as we walked. We went past a few memorials, and I realized we were in front of the World War II memorial. I stopped, mid sentence. Steve was silent. On our first date, I tried to get him to go to the memorial before I knew he was World War II soldier and he had declined. "We don't have to walk through here," I offered. "We can walk around."

"No. I think it's time I faced it. I think we've entered a new stage of our relationship: facing our fears."

And we had faced so many: the darkest parts of ourselves, our personal shames and embarrassments. I still had a lot more to face, personally, but they didn't seem to scary with Steve at my side. I realized how much of this we needed to do before even talking about a commitment like marriage. "You're scared of going to the memorial?" I asked.

"I'm afraid of remembering the Howling Commandos. We were brothers in arms and they're all dead. Here I am, walking around, just fine, like it happened a year ago, but it was a lot longer than that. I try not to think about them… but I do. I've spent my whole life looking a family."

"You have one. In the Avengers. And me."

He shook his head, but took a step forward, still holding hand. I stepped forward with him.

We entered the circular rotunda of the memorial, the beautiful fountain was going full-blast, the streams of water shooting up into the center. We were surrounded by the pillars that represented every state in the union that had contributed soldiers.

We took a seat on one of the benches to look around and watch the fountain.

"So, New York- that's me and Bucky, obviously," he said, pointing at the New York pillar. "And California, that's where Morita was from. Fresno, actually. He was a _Nisei_ soldier, a Japanese American."

"I think I've heard of those," I said.

"And Massachusetts, that's where Dum-dum came from, Boston, actually. And then, there was Gabe Jones. He was the ladies' man. And so smart, too. He was our translator. He studied German and French at Howard University, his reasoning for transferring to French was the girls were cuter."

A peal of laughter escaped my lips, but I stopped.

"There was Falsworth, but he wasn't American, but British. We went on so many missions together. They were the first family I had after Ma died, not counting Bucky."

I threaded his fingers in mine, our digits laced together. "You always wanted a family," I muttered.

"Yeah. I could tell your family is close from our first date. Your father, he's… he's the best dad I ever saw. If I ever have a daughter, I don't know if I could be half the father he is. He loves you so much. The amount of love I have for you, it's… it's overwhelming to me sometimes. But the way he loves you… I aspire to love like that. I admire him so much for all that he's made for himself."

"You admire my father?"

"He probably hates my guts, but yeah. I wish I could be like him. And have the family he has. I think I love you the most I ever could, but I realized that love can go a lot deeper than that when I see how your father loves you. And I want that. I didn't know love could be so exponential. Not just with you, but with a family."

I squeezed his hand. "I forget how much I'm loved, sometimes," I admitted. My heart ached for him. He hadn't been loved very much, not like I had. Yet he loved me. I wanted to give him that love and security. We almost had it when I was pregnant, but it didn't work. "And I feel that way about how much I love you, too. Love can go so much deeper than what we have already."

"It can," he agreed. He lifted my hand in his to his lips, kissing my knuckles

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still an epilogue! Thank you for reading!
> 
> XOXO,
> 
> Blue


	28. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading through my trashy little OFC fic! I hope you enjoyed it and I love you all!  
> XOXO,  
> Blue

It was June in New York City, and my last week off from work before I was going to return. We had gone to Nashville to the grand opening of the pool at Daddy and Harland’s. Steve was very cautious about being around the family, but the kids pretty much dog-piled him. Lauren bugged me about what the fight was about, but I didn’t say. Steve’s sexuality was his to come out about in his own time. He didn’t owe anybody an explanation. Daddy was disappointed I wasn’t going to take time off to come back home for PRIDE in Nashville, but Steve and I were planning a trip to the NYC PRIDE fest. That’s where we were today.

I wore my PFLAG tank top, a light-weight kimono that came down to my knees, and a pair of jean shorts and my straw hat, my bottle of sunblock stashed in my handbag. I hadn’t felt any pain in weeks, I probably could have gone back to work at week three in my recovery, but as long as Daddy was insisting on me taking the full time off and paying for it, I wasn’t going to complain. I was burnt out anyway.

Steve and I wandered through the crowd, looking for the perfect spot to see the parade. A group of Lesbians on motorcycles were riding past, handing out rainbow flags, and I managed to snag one.

“I didn’t get one!” a little girl cried, tears running down her face.

I glanced at Steve. “Here ya go,” I said, offering her the flag. Her face lit up and she accepted it.

“What do you say?” her mother asked.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” I replied.

“Are you sure you wanted to give that up?” Steve asked me.

“There’s merch for sale,” I said. “And a gap in the parade.” I saw a vendor booth half way down the block. “Be right back.”

At the booth, I saw some more PRIDE gear, and I found a few t-shirts and magnets for NYC PRIDE. My gaze ran over a small button, smaller than a silver dollar, pink, lavender, and blue. I grabbed it. “How much for this?” I asked the vendor.

“Three dollars. Or three for seven.”

Steve was in the same spot, and the little girl who got the flag was stealing suspicious glances at him. He caught her gaze, and I could almost tell she knew he was Captain America.

“Hey,” I said. “I got you something.” I lifted up his untucked shirt hem and attached the pin to one of the belt loops of his cargo shorts.

“What is this?” he asked as I dropped the shirt. He picked it up to see.

“I’m proud of you.”

“But nobody else can see it,” he said, picking up the hem just enough to unhook the pin.

“We know it’s there,” I replied.

He put the pin on his chest. “I’m not going to go around announcing it, you know,” he said. “But… I’m not going to be ashamed anymore.”

“I love you. More than yesterday,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his middle.

“And I’ll love you more tomorrow,” he said, burying his face in the top of my hat.

* * *

My fingers grasped his hair, my unbuttoned shorts being yanked down my hips as he backed me into the bed. I fell over onto my back in the darkness.

“You’re sure this is okay?” Steve asked.

“We’re close enough to eight weeks,” I said. “I missed this.” I felt my Converse being yanked off my feet and saw them fly over his shoulders.

I felt his fingers and the heat of his mouth against my inner lips. I laid back and enjoyed the ride. I hadn’t even gotten my top off as he brought me to orgasm so easily. I needed him. I needed this connection. I laid in the bed, my veins throbbing, my whole body buzzing as he wiped his mouth on the inside of my thigh.

He lifted me up and set me down on the bed, close to the headboard, and yanked his own shirt up, pushing his shorts down at record speed, exposing a hard, thick erection, which he stroked. I reached over to the nightstand which held an open box of condoms and got one out, ripping the foil open between my teeth. He put it on quickly, neither of us able to wait any longer. He pushed into my entrance, and it felt tight, yet familiar. He laid down on top of me, and I squeezed him in my arms. So close, so tight, he caught my groan in sloppy kiss with me on his lips.

“Oh, Steve,” I moaned.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into my mouth between kisses. I slipped a hand between us, and rubbed my clit. The friction made my muscles clench again, and the orgasm started.

“I’m cumming,” I whispered. “Steve!”

It washed over me and my neck and back arched against him. He pulled his cock out, and it was still rock-hard, propping himself up on his free elbow. He rolled the condom off and stroked himself. I pulled my shirt up over my head and came onto my stomach and got some on my bra. I slipped a finger between us and stroked the hot liquid dripping down my sides.

Steve laid down beside me, panting.

“I missed this,” he said softly.

* * *

He was the first to get up to get a washcloth to wipe me off after sex. We laid in bed, not really having to talk. I fell asleep in his arms, the A/C of his apartment cooling us off on top of the covers. I woke up the next morning alone in the bed, and I could hear Steve in the kitchen, making breakfast. I got up and took a shower and brushed my teeth, dressing in my favorite unicorn pajamas and a tank top before going to the kitchen. Steve was sitting at the breakfast nook by the window to the fire escape, reading his iPad over coffee.

“Good morning,” I said, getting a cup of coffee.

“Good morning you to,” he replied. “How’d you sleep?”

“So well,” I sighed. “I don’t want to go back to work Monday.”

“I know you don’t. I wish you’d just stay here.”

“Me too. Steve? I um…. I have something to say to you.”

“You do?” he asked, eyebrows knitting.

I had rehearsed this when he was out. “Okay, here goes: _Is breá liom tú_.”

An unincumbered grin cracked features. “Where’d you learn that?” he asked.

“Duolingo,” I said. “When you go out for a run, I use it. On our second official date, you said there was nobody around to speak Gaelic with, and you were forgetting it. So, I’m going to learn it so you don’t forget it.”

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Dani, I had something to say to you, too.”

“Oh?”

He grimaced for a second. “Man… have you ever been really nervous to say something before?”

I didn’t respond as he stood up. And then, he kneeled in front of me. My heart pounded, he didn’t break eye contact with me.

“Danielle Panagiota Conyers…” he started. “I’m happier with you than I ever thought I could be. I know I can be myself with you, and I hope you feel the same way. I want you to be my best for the rest of our natural lives. Will you be my wife?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who wanted to see them married and wonder what she said, guess... I'll give you guesses, but you'll only need one.
> 
> Their story is not over! I've got another story planned, a continuation of their story. I hope you'll be there to read it!


End file.
